Heart Shaped Box
by Guardian of the Nakano
Summary: An estranged teenager deals with the painful reality of his life and the transient permanence of death, in the house he lives in with his younger brother, kind mother, and abusive father. Full Summary in story. R&R And Enjoy! First chapter story. Criticism is accepted, and highly welcomed!
1. Rain

An estranged teenager deals with the painful reality of his life, in the house he lives in with his younger brother, kind mother, and abusive father, while distancing himself from his loving boyfriend as far as possible before he's able to break down the contents of his mind and open his subconscience appropriatly titled his "Heart-shaped box," filled with secrets he doesn't even want to know himself.

* * *

><p>It was raining outside when he came to pick him up.<p>

It had been raining, to be exact. For the past three hours. The night was dark and the branches on the shamelessly nude trees swung with the wind. Thunder rumbled off somewhere in the distance. They didn't pay it much mind. It was a cold September rain that stung his face, neck, and collarbone like acupuncture needles in all the wrong places, freezing and unwelcoming. This is where he lived.

He lived with his little brother, young, endearing mother, and abusive father. This is where he resided every day, where he slept upstairs, in his room in the back of the house. He chose the room so he could always watch the trees wave at him at night, the shadows on the walls cast by the swaying limbs in front of the moon. His room had a computer in one corner, filled with discarded drafts of beautiful tales of silver linings and heroic tales. He later resolved that the only good silver lining was that of a blade. It had old photos and photoshopped pieces of art he created when he could not sleep, detailed with bloody scenes of murder and self-sacrifice. His walls had framed pictures of familial occasions, the glare of the moon would block out the forced smiles he painted on for each of them, just like his paintings that adorned dust in his closet. No one could see them ever again. He painted them to lock away.

He spent eight months in the insane asylum for those paintings. Ones that depicted each of his little self-sacrifices, the ones where he ripped out his heart for his little brother. It was in that one where he kneeled in front of the little child of eight, presenting him his still-beating heart as one would present an engagement ring, a smile, true smile, would be stretched across his bloodied lips, eyes closed in cresents of joy. Sasuke would look surprised, but not unhappy. His hands were curled up at his own heart, clinging to the fabric of his navy-blue shirt, his eyes widened and shiny. He almost looked honored that his older brother would do this for him. He dreamt of that often.

Another was one where he walked in a city on fire, with only his two best friends beside himself in the middle of the street, his younger brother innocently hopping over dead bodies, smothered in soot, looking almost entertained with this game. He looked as if he were about to burst out in a giggle, "Watch me jump over two in one try!" His "Older brother", a.k.a, best friend had his hands tucked into his pockets, gazing foreward, the golden hues of the fire casting lovely shadows onto his features, his short, unkempt hair glowing a roasted chestnut in the glow of the fire. He himself simply walked foreward, his expression blank, his eyes alive. He looked happy without looking ahead.

There was a knock at the door that aroused him from his daydreams. He ran his fingers through his long, crow-feather hair that flayed around his face aesthetically. He pushed himself off of the high bed, his feet softly echoing through the wooden hallways of the empty house. He unlocked the door and opened it, letting the older boy in.

"You know, it's about time. It's 'effing freezing out there."

"I apologize," was all he returned.

"Are you ready to go or what? Movie starts at ten. It's 9:30, and we gotta get to town. C'mon, you look good, just get on your shoes," he nodded towards the door, where a pair of heavy black Doc Marten's sat. "Itachi...?"

Itachi turned to look over his shoulder as he kneeled down to lace up the steel-toed boots. "Yes?"

"Somethin' bothering you?"

"No. Why?"

"Well, it usually seems like something's bothering you," he shrugged. "But you never tell me."

"What would make you believe I would tell you, Shisui, now of all times?"

Itachi grabbed his house key from the hook by the door, walking into the kitchen. Shisui followed on his heels.

"A slight of hope, maybe? You never tell me anything."

"Precisely."

Itachi grabbed a bag of cat food and poured it into a small porcelain bowl, clicking his tongue. "Ichabod? Poe?"

Two black cats slipped into the dim kitchen, their gold eyes adjusting to the gloomy lightly. They purred as Itachi grabbed a small container from the pantry, unscrewing the lid. He kneeled down and they circled him, rubbing against his hand and knees, mewling as he pulled out two crickets from the jar, feeding them endearingly. As they took the treat, he petted their oil-slick fur, muttering praises about how sweet and good they were, and how much he loved them. He continued to coo utterly creepy and infinatly endearing things to the two cats when Shisui cleared his throat.

"Dude, you're obsessed with those things."

"They're my familiars."

Shisui smiled slightly. "You really love those things."

"These 'things' are my cats, thank you very much."

"They creep me out. Sure are cute, though. They remind me too much of you."

"How?"

"Well, they're real pretty, for one thing. Another, they're antisocial. And they only like one person."

"Who?"

"You. Except, you don't like yourself. You like me, 'cause I'm your best friend. Let's go, though. Your little cannibal cats need anymore grasshoppers?"

"Crickets. No. Come on," Itachi let a small smile tug at the corner of his mouth, not letting him see, though.

Shisui smiled at him jokingly. "Pardon the mistake, 'Tachi," he soothed, putting his hands up in mock defense.

They walked out of the house, Itachi locked the door behind Shisui and himself after dimming the lamp in the living room for his cats. The rain stung their skin once more, and Shisui wrapped his arm around Itachi's waist, pulling him close. He kissed him on the temple sweetly, noting how the rain hit Itachi's eyes and he didn't even blink. The raindrops just fell like tears from the corners of his heavily lashed eyes, the black orbs of his irises illuminating with the occasional flash of lightning. Shisui looked down at him.

"It'll be okay, y'know..." he whispered to him.

Itachi could only nod.


	2. Ice Cream

Itachi stirred a few hours after midnight tolled on the night, turning into a long morning for him. He opened his eyes, raking a hand through his hair exhaustedly. He attempted to sit up to find that a large black ball of fur was curled upon his chest, warm and welcoming, yet inhibiting to his movements.

"Poe, get off," he groaned.

Poe looked up at him, blinking slowly, then stretching, standing and clawing into his chest. Itachi smiled slightly, petting across the spine of the cat's silky black fur. "Who's a pretty girl?" he muttered, still drunken and dazed with sleep.

Poe let out a slight mewl, choosing instead to lay on the pillow beside Itachi's head. He snuggled into her soft, fragrant fur that smelled of wet morning dew and fabric softener and that indistinct scent that always seems to surround a cat's fur. He scratched her tummy and sat up, pulling his hair back from his face, throwing his legs over the bed. Ichabod looked up from the end of the bed, yawning. "Sorry..." he whispered, stretching his legs before standing, raising his arms above his head, letting out a languid, almost strained yawn. An hour of sleep was kind to him. In fact, it was merciful. He silently thanked God as he slipped out of the door without a sound, walking down the hallway to the bathroom. The moonlight illuminated his passage through the wooded hall, his footsteps resounding softly, a welcoming sound. All he could hear was his slow breathing. For once, the stillness in the house was the right kind of stillness. A calm in the dead of night. His heart beat graciously, a peaceful, steady pace for once. Finally came the intersection where the stairs met the top floor and the bathroom door overlooked the hall, next to the hall closet, filled with towels and blankets neatly stacked on shelves, an old soccer ball, a few puzzles unsolved, a lamp with no bulb. A gun with no bullets. Bullets without a gun. Itachi had made it a factor to memorize the exact fold of the throw blanket each bullet was hidden in, the gun in the largest fold, the third at the bottom, two bullets in every fold of the blanket. He pushed the door open silently, a shiver shooting up his spine when his bare feet hit the cold linoleum. He gave a languid smile at it, his head lilting slightly, falling back dependently against the door with his back, closing the door behind him. The still of the bathroom was almost calming. It gave off a scent of water, clean and pure. He opened his eyes, the smile fading when he locked eyes with the medicine cabinet mirror.

"...well, hello there..." he mumbled, glaring slightly at his reflection, who mimicked his actions rudely.

He approached the mirror cautiously, never knowing why, and undid the child lock on the door of the cabinet, pushing aside Sasuke's stool he used to reach his toothbrush. He opened the cabinet and looked through the shelves, finally coming across an unmarked bottle. He placed one pill on his tongue and turned on the fosset, grabbing a paper cup and filling it, drinking it down and sighing contently, closing his eyes. He smiled comfortably, running his fingers through his long hair that splayed across his shoulders. He grabbed a ponytail holder and pulled his hair back, running his fingers over the sides of his neck, shivering at the feel. He thought of Shisui and sighed, splashing water on his face, drying it with the towel on the rack. He closed the cabinet door and jumped slightly, only to find himself staring, shocked. He took a deep breath, blinking slowly, then looking back at the mirror. He glared slightly, clenching his fists.

"I hate you."

He turned and left the bathroom, flicking the light off as he left. Itachi made his way down the stairs to the second floor, heading for the ground floor when he caught sight of Sasuke's door, marked with the kanji of his young hand that read "Sasuke's room!" Itachi smiled. His little brother was so sweet. He tried the doorknob to see if it was locked. It turned in his hand, the cool knob allowing him entrance as the lock clicked softly. He entered as silently as possible, shutting the door behind him. Itachi walked across the floor littered with Sasuke's toys and books and clothes in childish bliss, leaning over his little brother in his sleep, ghosting his temple with a kiss of endearment as he slept softly on his side. Itachi stood up straight and smiled as Sasuke yawned, stretching his arms, and turned over onto his back, one draped across the pillow, the other over his stomach. He grumbled something incoherent, his mouth left slightly agape. Itachi gasped softly. Dried blood adorned Sasuke's white teeth, and, now that he noticed it, the corner of his mouth, staining the slight bruise on his cheek. He leaned in closer. One of Sasuke's teeth were chipped painfully.

Itachi's eyes softened. He looked on the verge of tears. He wiped the blood away from Sasuke's lip delicatly and went back to the bathroom, returning with a glass of water and two Advil. He crushed them up and let them dissolve in the water, mixing it well. He woke Sasuke gently. _"Sasuke? Wake up, little brother."_

"Mmn...nnh...ah, I...Itachi?"

"Sasuke?"

"Y-yeah...?" Sasuke rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands, sitting up. He winced slightly, his hand moving to his cheek.

Itachi gave a reassuring smile. "It hurts, doesn't it?" he asked quietly, squeezing his hand in assurance.

Sasuke noddedly slowly. Itachi chuckled faintly, giving him the water. Sasuke drank it without question, rubbing his eyes again. Itachi stood to leave, whispering, "It should feel better, soon..." petting his hair lovingly.

"Wait...! Itachi?" he heard as he made to leave. "Yes, Sasuke?"

"Can...I...uh...sleep with you?" he stammered out, a bit embarassed to still want to sleep in the same bed as Itachi.

Itachi turned around and scooped Sasuke up lovingly in his arms bridal style, carrying him out of the room. He closed the door with his foot, smiling as Sasuke wrapped his arms around his neck. Sasuke noticed that Itachi wasn't going towards the stairs to the upper level, but instead towards the first floor.

"Itachi...?"

"I'm just going to get some water, Sasuke, that's all. Do you need anything?"

"No...unless I can have ice cream...?" Sasuke looked up at him innocently, smiling.

"Yeah, try no, Sasuke," he chuckled as Sasuke groaned. "It's too late to satiate your little sweet tooth. Speaking of which, how do you feel?"

"Fine..." he pouted. "Besides you won't let me have ice cream...if I say I'm in pain, can I have ice cream?"

"No. You can have more medicine."

"...you're so mean, Aniki," he snuggled into Itachi's shoulder, his feet swinging childishly over Itachi's arm.

"I know, I know..." he smiled, sighing in false exasperation, unable to hide his teasing grin, earning another pout as he set Sasuke on the counter, grabbing a cup from the cabinet.

"Well, can I at least have _something _sweet?" he tried, but scowled when Itachi planted a large, dramatic kiss on his cheek. "I_tachi_!" he groaned under his breath. "Not what I ment." He wiped his cheek off with the sleeve of his pajama shirt, glaring slightly at Itachi, a blush adorning his sweet, rounded cheeks.

"I know, I know..." he breathed a chuckle, turning on the faucet, filling the cup with water.

Sasuke swung his feet over the edge of the counter. He stared at the ceiling boredly, leaning back on his small hands. Suddenly, a small bowl was presented to him. "Nii-san?"

He silently handed him the cold glass bowl. Sasuke's eyes lit up and he muttered a grateful, "Thank you, 'Tachi!"

"Yeah, yeah..." Itachi rolled his eyes, helping Sasuke off of the high counter. He grabbed his water and Sasuke followed at his heels up the stairs. Itachi opened the door to his bedroom and was greeted with two loud, low meows from the cats, only their eyes visible in the dark of the room, a brilliant gold.

Sasuke put his bowl on the bedside table, climbing onto the bed from the hope chest at the foot of it, climbing up to the pillows and taking his ice cream, smiling as he scooped up a large amount, taking it into his mouth happily. Itachi rolled his eyes playfully, his lips turned up at the corners slightly.

"Scoot over," he slipped into the bed next to Sasuke, pulling the covers up over him and Sasuke, setting his pillow to lean back against the headboard. Sasuke did the same, snuggling into his older brother's side.

Poe and Ichabod approached Sasuke cautiously, slinking around him, pawing at his legs and sniffing the bowl of vanilla ice cream, meowing loudly.

"No! It's mine, go get your own ice cream. 'Niki! Your cats are trying to steal my ice cream! It's _mine_!"

"Ichabod. Poe. Stoppit. You know better," the cats both let him be, Poe laying in Itachi's lap, Ichabod settling comfortably at the foot of the bed, like always, "Just because I spoil you rotten doesn't mean other people will."

"Itachi, you spoil your cats? What do you do for them?" Sasuke tilted his head, spooning more ice cream into his mouth.

"Well, for starters, they hate those generic cat treats because I always buy them crickets instea-"

"Crickets?" Sasuke looked horrified. "Itachi, you don't feed cats crickets!"

"Yes you do," He smiled. "It's a really good source of protein for them," he scratched behind Poe's ear, earning a graciously loud purr, "and they love it."

"...so...cats are..._supposed _to eat crickets?"

"Mmhmm," he nodded, "and they're pretty much allowed to help themselves to whatever they want on my plate. Ichabod eats edamame, but he doesn't particularly enjoy the shells. I always shell them for him."

"Jeez, Aniki, your cats are like your children. You treat them better than you treat me!"

"I gave you ice cream, didn't I?"

"...yeah..." he muttered, snuggling closer-if possible-to his amused Itachi.

"You realize now you probably won't go to bed?"

"How?"

"I pretty much just fueled you with sugar. You're going to terrorize the cats once I fall asleep, aren't you?"

Sasuke shot a glance at Ichabod, who was staring dead at him. "...no."

"Don't lie, Sasuke," he ruffled his hair.

"And, plus, Aniki," Sasuke giggled slightly, "you don't sleep!"

Itachi looked down at him, blinking quickly. He settled back into the pillows.

"You're right, Sasuke," he praised quietly. "Good observation."


	3. End of the Rope

It was about all he could take.

Itachi was at the end of his rope with his father. He was losing it slowly. He fed his aching desire to murder the bastard in his sleep with pill after pill, washed down with painful swallows of water that made his throat clench in soreness. The only thing that really kept him from doing it was his little brother. If he would happen to be caught, unlikely as it was, where would Sasuke go? What would happen? Even so, if he were to murder his father, what would his mother feel? Well, the only rational idea was to-

Itachi shook off the dark thoughts clouding his head as he walked home from the bus stop. He shrugged off his bookbag, letting it hang off of one shoulder. The other was still sore.

He thought silently if Sasuke felt any better. His tooth would hurt him from time to time, for the exposed nerve endings were extremely sensitive. Sasuke had a hard time eating, or even drinking, anything too hot or cold. Itachi constantly wracked his brain for ideas on how to fix this. Google, of course, was no help whatsoever, because apparently, nobody had a better solution for two kids with an abusive father who refused to take the youngest to the dentist to fix his tooth than to actually _go_ to the dentist. Itachi lost faith in humanity with every entry he read.

He did his homework mechanically, his eyes reading the words, his mind off somewhere else. He completed it in a matter of minutes, packed it up, and left his bookbag by the door. He ran upstairs to see what Sasuke was up to.

"Sasuke? Sasuke, where are you?" he looked in his room, but to no avail. Sasuke wasn't in there.

Itachi glanced about worriedly. His mother and father weren't home. Sasuke always came home before him. Where was he? Itachi looked in every room, knocked on every bathroom door, looked through the garden, and didn't find him anywhere. Itachi ran up to his room to grab his phone, bursting through the door, breathing panicked. He ran and jumped onto the bed to grab his cell phone off of the charger. Suddenly, he made contact with something that screamed, "Ow! Nii-san!"

Itachi fell backwards off of the bed, landing on his back. He shook his head clear, catching his breath that was knocked out of him previously. "S...Sasuke?" he panted out.

Sasuke peered over the edge of the bed, smiling. He jumped onto his older brother's chest, hugging him tightly.

"Welcome home! I was waiting for you!" he rubbed the back of his head, "Hehe...but I kinda fell asleep. Your cats are really comfy," he looked up at Ichabod and Poe, who stared down at them curiously.

"What are _you_ looking at," Itachi questioned the cats, who both adverted their eyes. "Sasuke, you scared me! I thought you...you..."

"I what, Nii-san?" Sasuke's head tilted curiously. "I just wanted to wait for you. 'm sorry..."

Itachi wrapped his arms around his little brother, kissing his forehead. "Jesus, Sasuke...next time, at least answer!"

"I was asleep! What do you want me to do? Sleeprun downstairs and tackle you?" He chuckled inwardly.

Itachi rolled his eyes. He appeared unamused. "Really funny, Sasuke. You really scared me. How are you feeling, though? And...could you get off?"

Sasuke rolled off of Itachi, sitting beside him, watching as he sat up. "Sorry, Nii-san. I'm okay. My tooth doesn't hurt so much anymore."

"I'm glad."

Sasuke hugged Itachi sweetly, snuggling into his chest. "So...can I have Ice-"

"No."

Sasuke scowled silently. Itachi stood, helping Sasuke up. "Shisui is coming over later, Sasuke, okay?"

"Mkay, Nii-san! Shisui's really fun. I like it when he calls you 'Itamichi'!"

"...Why?" Itachi looked slightly mussed by this.

"Because, you get all blushy! I'd almost think you were in love with Shisui, Nii-san!"

Itachi's eyes widened. He adverted his gaze and walked away. Poe meowed loudly, rolling onto her back. "Oh, hush up," he snapped at her unintentionally. She seemed to roll her eyes.

A few minutes later, after Itachi wasted them surfing through endless channels with nothing to watch, there was a knock at the door. He lazily threw his legs over the side of the sofa, stretching his legs before standing to unlock the door. The locks clicked as Itachi turned them, and stood aside to let Shisui in.

Shisui wrapped his arms around Itachi's waist and smothered his face into his neck, smiling. "Hey, Itamichi!"

"Shisui!" he stumbled back, almost falling into the wall. He shook his brain of the rattling that knocked it about, then blinked twice. "Nice to see you too," he mused in his usual monotone.

"God, you're _emo!_" he prodded, laughing his usual carefree laugh. Itachi scowled slightly.

"I am nothing of the sort."

Shisui snorted in laughter and kissed Itachi on the mouth.


	4. September

The cold September wind made his hair dance in a forced eloquence. This is the first time Itachi went out alone in a long time, much less for a walk. In the asylum, you couldn't even walk the halls alone, much less enjoy the crisp, freezing air of Virgo and Libra's playground. All you could ever do was pace the linoleum to the window that never opens and imagine you're free.

His hands were tucked into the front pockets of his hoodie, gracious on the teen's slightly effeminant curves, black and sleek cotten that did not much to keep the cold out. The dampened dry crusts of leaves crunched beneath his feet, protesting their mistreatment. As if they had a choice. The icy winds caressed his cheeks, slipping down to his jaw to massage the back of his neck with its cool fingers. He sighed a small, satisfied sigh. To his right, across the street two children jumped into a pile of leaves, their audiable amusement and happiness reaching his ear. A woman walked her Yorkie on the opposite sidewalk, who stopped to sniff in his direction, tugging against the leash in a futile attempt to reach him, then, presently, gave up, continuing on with his-her?-owner. A child rode by on her bike, adorned with a white basket and pink strands of sparkly, pink-crimped paper on the handles. As she pedaled past, he heard a bell chime. He looked up to see the girl look back at him, waving from her bike. Itachi smiled slightly and removed his hand from his pocket to wave back, the fading image of her pink against the gray September sky, leaving a cheery impression on his sights. The cold became warmer and the overcast of clouds didn't borther him as much as calm him. The cold that seeped in quelled the burning of his bloodied knuckles, the open wound on the skin.

Itachi smiled.

If you've felt depression, if you're diagnosed with it, or its manic counterpart, schizophrenia, felt the highs or lows, the twisting emotions, you know the feeling, the relief once you find a bit of sanity in the middle of the storm, the eye. A bubbly feeling of contentment in the pit of your stomach, a languid sense of joy as your heart flutters and you feel utterly weightless. Rare, and evanescent.

Itachi made his way home with the same feeling, smiling slightly. His grin became larger when his father's truck wasn't in the driveway. He walked up the stone-paved walkway to the door, mom's poppies and wildflowers blooming vivaciously, thriving despite the cold. He opened the door and was greeted with the warm sight of little Sasuke, a blanket draped over his drawn shoulders, sitting in front of the fire. He peered over his shoulder nervously, but smiled once he saw his older brother walk in.

"'Tachi! Welcome home!" He grinned at Itachi, a moustache of chocolate adorning his upper lip.

"Sasuke...you have a little...er...something, yeah..." he motioned towards his own lip, inadvertedly letting Sasuke know of the chocolatey stain. He made his way over to see what it was when he saw laced in Sasuke's small fingers a mug of molten, sweetened chocolate drink, a few marhsmallows stranded, drifting slowly, stained in brown cocoa. "Oh."

Sasuke smiled once again, beaming. "Yeah! Mom made it for me!"

Itachi nodded and went into the kitchen to find his mother at the stove, stirring noodles on the hot range, boiling. The scent of marinara and sausages, vinegar and boiling water, steam and contentment. The scent of home.

He could only think, _Thank God for my Japanese-Italian heratige._

"Oh! Itachi. Welcome home, dear," she smiled, "How was your walk? Get some thinking done?" Mikoto turned back to the stove, stirring the bubbling noodles as they sputtered for her attention.

Mikoto let out a gasp in surprise as she felt someone wrap their arms around her waist, burying their face in her shoulder. She looked back to see a head of glossy dark brown hair spill over her shoulder and she smiled, turning off the burner and turning around, wrapping her arms around her eldest son.

"It was nice. I did get some thinking done, really." Itachi stood up from hugging her, smiling slightly. "I thought about a lot..."

Mikoto turned around to move the steaming water to the collender at the sink, "I'm glad, Itachi. You never have time to think around here, what, with Fugaku ordering you around all of the time...you're a teenage boy for God's sake...and you...you just..." Mikoto let the pot clatter slightly as it hit the counter, water sloshing out. Itachi held her as she cried into his chest.

"Mama, it's alright," he petted her hair lovingly, letting her fingers curl into the soft cotton of his hoodie, bawling into his chest. He smiled slightly, holding her.

Sasuke came skipping into the room, smiling, his mouth drenched in the sweet liquid. "Mom! Can I have mor-! Nii-san? What's wrong with Mom?"

Itachi smiled down at Sasuke, motioning for him to be quiet with his finger to his lips. Mikoto looked up, letting out another surprised gasp as she felt Sasuke cling to her leg in a tight hug. "Don't cry, Mom! Everything'll be alright!"

Mikoto smiled a sad, broken smile, reassured by her sons, and began to cry once more, but not of sorrow.

_Hey What r u up 2?_

Itachi recieved that text, announced with a loud vibration and Nirvana's "All Apologies," as the LCD screen lit up at 2:34. Printed across the screen, "Shisui".

_Not much. Was trying to fall asleep. It didn't work._

_ XD Ttly. Dude, ur insomnia is freaking horrible. Wanna come over Sat.?_

_ If I can. Why?_

_ 'Cause, dude. I get bored here. You get beaten up there. Perfect combo?_

_ No._

_ Oh, fine. yah, just come over. itll be cool._

_ Alright, I'll see if I can._

_ Of course u can! Dude, seriously, ur mom is cool, in case you didnt notice._

_ I know, I know. I don't think she can hold up much longer, though. Dad is really taking a toll on her._

_ Aww, Itamichi, ur so sweet to ur mom, you know? Kyuti pai._

Damn Shisui with his damn Korean. _Shut up._

_ U love me._

_ ...Yeah I do. Bastard._

_ D'aww Itamichi. I love you._

_ I love you, too, Shisui._

Itachi looked to the calander on the wall, then to the clock. He'd go to Shisui's in exactly twelve hours. He couldn't wait.


	5. Breathe Slow

I apologize for the fact that I haven't updated in so long. A lot has been going on, we're moving so I can't get on much, and when I do, my sister always kicks me off (Points for being the favorite? I dunno.).

But know that I am always writing new chapters in school. I never forget about the story, and I'm always looking for inspiration for new stories.

A few artists I'd like to thank for pure, unbridled inspiration for this chapter: Nirvana, Rufus Wainwright, Kate Voegele...yeah.

Mainly to Nirvana for the inspiration for this whole entire story, along with the book by Joe Hill.

R.I.P Kurt Cobain.

* * *

><p>It took a moment to wrench from his mother's death-grip hug and Venus fly-trap kisses, as if it were the last time she'd see Itachi alive. She relented after a few minutes passed. Then it was Sasuke's turn. He threw his arms around Itachi's waist and exclaimed, "Have fun, Itamichi!"<p>

Mikoto blinked in surprise. "Who is Itamichi?"

"Shisui's nickname for 'tachi, Mom!"

Mikoto raised an eyebrow in question but chuckled quietly, kissing her eldest on the cheek once more. "Have a good time, Itachi."

Itachi nodded, hugging them both to him protectively. "Stay safe. Take care of yourselves, okay? Call, I'm right up the road."

"Itachi Uchiha, you act as if I can't take care of myself," Mikoto laughed, stomping her foot playfully. Her eyes gleamed with a sense of security as she smiled warmly at him.

"I'm serious, Ma," he returned. "You too, Sasuke. Remember my number?" Sasuke nodded. "Alright. I'm off."

"Take care of yourself, Itachi," Sasuke called as Mikoto ghosted an "I love you," as she kissed him once more.

Itachi nodded as he left, closing the door behind himself. He shouldered his bag as he footed the kickstand up, throwing his leg onto the other side of his bike. He turned the key in the ignition and smiled as the engine revved to life. He backed out of the driveway and made his way down the street.

Itachi let his mind wander as he strolled up Shisui's almost-vacant driveway, parked beside a black convertible with a white gash in the side. The garage door was open, revealing the worn-out old scrap-metal car Shisui called a "Work-in-progress" while his mother called it "Dingy." Itachi slipped off his shoes at the door-old habits die hard-and set them in the rack beside.

"Shisui?" He tried, once knocking didn't succeed. Suddenly, he heard a loud clang.

"Sunofabitch!" a familiar voice carried from beneath the car, Itachi finally noticing the worn Timberlands writhing from beneath the car.

"...Shisui?"

"...fuck...Ye-yeah...?"

"Are you alright?" Itachi leaned down to peer underneath the car.

He stood back as Shisui rolled from beneath the car, pushing himself to sit up with one hand, holding his head wiht the other. Ther was motor oil smeared on his cheek, handprints smeared on his white tee-shirt different shades of brown and black. His jeans were torn on the theigh and knee, stained with dirt and sawdust from the garage floor. A light sheen of sweat coated his forehead, his hair messy and tousled, moreso than usual. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. A black smear was left behind.

"I'm good," he smiled, standing up and pushing the rolling board back underneath the car with the heel of his foot. He pulled Itachi close. "You?"

Itachi rested his head on Shisui's shoulder, inhailing deeply. Axe, sweat, oil, fabric softener...Shisui's distinct scent. He smiled, kissing Shisui's neck softly. "Wonderful."

Shisui pulled away, smiling, then suddenly crinkled his nose, as if he smelt something bad.

"...?"

"You smell too clean!" He laughed, smearing oil across Itachi's face.

He wasn't amused...outwardly. He wiped the oil off on his sleeve, taking out a small electronic device from his pocket. Shisui peered over his shoulder. "Why are you playing chess?"

"Practice."

"For what?"

"Nothing important."

Shisui nipped his earlobe playfully. "Just tell me, will ya?"

Itachi rolled his eyes in forced exasperation. "It's just a competition."

"Competition? Like, with trophies and stuff?"

"Yeah..."

"You're a sure thing, Itamichi. You can beat _me_ in chess."

"I am not..."

Shisui smirked against his ear, wrapping his arms around Itachi's waist, kissing the lobe of his ear.

"You need to be more confident, Itamichi."

"For what?"

"Well, you're a young genius, you're incredibly intellectual, you're beautifu-"

"Shut up..." He turned his face away from Shisui's inadvertantly, hiding the inevitable blush that spread across his cheeks, highlighting the tips of his ears.

"I'm serious, Itachi."

"Sure you are."

"Oh, whatever. Come on, Itamichi. Let's go inside."

The day slipped into the night slowly, and after a while they showered and retired to bed. Itachi walked into Shisui's room after getting dressed, his black muscle shirt clinging graciously and comfortably to his sides, his blue plaid pajama pants soft, giving Itachi a relaxed air about him. His hair draped over his shoulders like silk curtains. He blinked away the haze of the steamy bathroom, his long eyelashes batting like butterfly wings. Shisui turned over to see him, smiling a languid, tired smile. Itachi returned it silently, climbing into bed beside him. He sighed a contented sigh, blinking slowly. He pulled the covers up over his shoulder, wrapping his arms around Shisui's neck comfortably. Shisui's hand rested on his hip, kissing him lingeringly as they both relaxed into the soft sheets and eachother's embrace. Their lips didn't even really part, they just lay entwined.

After a while, they fell into a bit of a Drosophila after a while, their eyelids fluttering every so often in a state of not-quite-sleep. They lay back to back, the curve of each's shoulderblade touching the other's comfortingly, the thin soft of the sheets cool against their skin. The room was incredibly still, and dark. The only sound was that of their breathing, and the occasional rustle of sheets beneath them. The only light was that of the alarm, glowing a calming red. The room was fairly warm, almost to the point of suffocating. Almost.

The haze of Drosophila didn't seem to last too long. Itachi's eyelids fluttered slightly, his lips parting to take a breath. Shisui stirred ungracefully, but gave a languid yawn that bordered cute, a quiet inhaled relief. They lay there for a bit, appreciating the silence, the darkness. Shisui blinked the haze away, the digital clock illuminating a crimson "2:27."

Suddenly, simultaniously, Shisui and Itachi turned over at once, taking eachother into their arms, their lips joined passionatly, heatedly. Shisui's hands slipped from Itachi's shoulders down to his chest. He ran his hands underneath Itachi's shirt, letting his fingertips tease the tightening skin, sinewy muscles contracting underneath his touch. He let his hands graze Itachi's chest, his shirt bunched up around Shisui's wrists. He continued to kiss Itachi gently, greedily, as he teased the teen's dusky nipples, smirking when Itachi gasped against his lips. He unconsciencely pushed himself closer to the older male, wrapping one leg around his waist. Shisui silently praised God for Itachi's incredible flexability.

Shisui slid the shirt up over Itachi's head, he lifting his arms, allowing it to be removed. his arms remained above his head lazily as Shisui ran his hands up his sides, up the undersides of Itachi's sensitive arms, earning a choked giggle, a small smile tugging at the end of his slightly parted lips. Suddenly, Shisui turned them both over, straddling Itachi's waist, his hands clasped tightly around Itachi's wrists, pinning him. Shisui drew his legs closer against Itachi's theighs, causing the younger male to sigh out, "Oh, God...Shisui..." the sound barely ghosting his ears. Shisui leaned down and nipped at Itachi's lips, leaving sweeling little bits of red on the pale, pale pink. He ran his tongue along the slight teeth-marked patches of now-mauve, his lips parted and shining. Shisui took the oppertunity to slip his tongue into the boy's warm, slick cavern. The sensation subsequently caused Itachi's eyes to roll into the back of his head, his eyelids fluttering closed. Shisui let one hand drift away from his wrist, caressing the soft skin of Itachi's pectorals, teasing the dusky, hardened nipples again, a flush of excitement washing over him when Itachi moaned graciously into his mouth. Itachi desperatly wanted to break free, to throw his arms around Shisui's neck to pull them closer, to signal he wanted-no, needed more. He lifted his legs to wrap them around Shisui's waist once more, trying to send him a message by tugging at his shirt hem as best he could. Shisui pulled away, licking at his lips to break the strand of saliva that connected their lips and sat up, still straddling Itachi. Shisui went to remove his shirt. As he pulled it off, Itachi snaked his hands up to rest on the toasty skin of Shisui's stomach. His hands lightly caressed his tight abdomen over his navel, and lower, eventually. Itachi turned his wrists and snuck his hands into Shisui's waistband, tracing the prominant "V" of his waistline. He slipped the waistband further down his hips. Once the sight borderlined explicit, exactly what Itachi wanted, Shisui stopped him.

"Ah ah ah. Not yet, Itamichi."

Itachi glowered at him as he pinned his hands by his sides. He kissed him so tenderly, all was forgiven. Itachi moaned at the feel of Shisui's skin against his, Shisui's skin hot and inviting, like fire. Itachi's skin was cold and seemingly incomplete without his heated lover pressed against him, igniting him himself, like powder; in their kisses, they consumed.

Shisui kissed down Itachi's neck gingerly, teasingly, smirking when Itachi gave a slight of impatience. He kissed down Itachi's bruised collarbone, tracing each darkened bruise with his lips, an assurance he needed to give. Itachi seemed to flinch slightly when they were touched. Shisui simply laced his fingers within Itachi's in reassurance. He did it as if to say, _I won't hurt you. I'll never hurt you._

Itachi gripped his hand tightly once Shisui took a hardened nub into his hot mouth, nipping and sucking at it lightly. Itachi moaned loudly, arching slightly. _"God, Shisui!" _he cried, eyelids fluttering, throat contracting to keep him from saying more.

Itachi didn't notice until he felt Shisui's hand wrap around his sensitive erection that Shisui had undressed him. He lay vunerable and wanting before the older male, who began to pump Itachi's shaft slowly, Shisui's fingertips so teasing, so amazing, so warm, that Itachi could do nothing but press back into the pillows, breathless. His lids fluttered in bliss. Shisui pressed his lips to the cold skin of Itachi's shoulder, slightly dampened with sweat, savoring the sweet taste of the pale flesh beneath him. He continued to pump Itachi's erection softly as he worshipped the younger man's flesh, nipping at his contracting throat, stifling the sounds. Itachi thrusted upward into his hand, unable to contract his larynx beyond the point of a gracious moan, couldn't make his lips form, "more." Itachi could feel his heartbeat in his ears slowly rising, beating quickly, a steady thrumming in his chonclea, making him dizzy with pleasure. "Breathe slow," Shisui whispered into his ear, audiable above the constant beat that wracked his brain. Itachi did as told, breathlessly attempting to quell his need, to focus his mind solely on Shisui's hands, his lips, his breaths. He

calmed considerably, and found the effort was worthwhile. It was almost overstimulating, with each shallow breath pleasure wracked every nerve in his body. He felt Shisui drag his thumb up the underside vein, digging his nail into the slit. He felt him increase his pace on Itachi's throbbing shaft, his knees jerking in unbridled ecstasy. It was almost too much. "Yes...yes..." Itachi breathed, the words ghosting from his lips and evaporating, the cool of the room disappating the heat of his breaths. His toes curled into the bedsheet, drawing his knees closer to him, fingers gripping Shisui's shoulder and the comforter. He panted out a few more times, his body taking matters into it's control. He thrusted into Shisui's hand and felt him grace a kiss on the corner of his mouth before he cried his name, body shaking in insurmountable bliss.

Itachi's breathing was shaky as he looked up at Shisui, who was smiling down at him. Itachi's eyes narrowed slightly, feeling Shisui press a kiss to his temple. He smiled against Itachi's head, nuzzling into the soft hair dampened slightly with sweat. He cuddled up to him, resting his head in the crook of Itachi's neck, running his thumb against Itachi's collarbone gently. Itachi gave a muted moan at this. Shisui's breath steadied after a moment and Itachi suddenly realised.

_He fell asleep...? _

Itachi blinked twice. Then once more. It was so confusing! He had just done that for him...yet he expected nothing in return...

_What does that mean...? _Puzzling his mind, he glanced down at Shisui, who had a languid smile across his slightly parted lips, his hand still absentmindedly stroking Itachi's shoulder. _What does it mean? Don't people usually expect something in return?_

Itachi stared at the ceiling he could barely see. He listened to Shisui breathe calmly, contently against Itachi's shoulder. His hand had slipped to Itachi's heart. Itachi blinked against the pain in the back of his eyes, the one that always seemed to come around when he was confused. His eyebrows pulled together in question.

_Did he expect something in return? Did he not think me capable? ...Why didn't he ask? Why didn't he force me? Why would he just simply...why? Shisui, why would you do something like this for me...?_

Suddenly, Itachi caught the sound faintly. He was certain-...no...couldn't have been...could it? Did he really just...in sleep?

Shisui had whispered, _"I love you, Itamichi."_

And Itachi made a point to respond, _"I love you, Shisui..." _as his breath, too, began to slow.

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><p>AN: It took too, too long to write this, I swear. I'm strapped for time nowadays because of the move, but once we're settled, I'm gonna keep them coming!

And to those of you who are die-hard Kurt Cobain and Nirvana fans, you'll be pleased with how many songs will be mentioned, how many themes, and even his suicide note.

"Because it's better to burn out than to fade away..."

And to those of you who are loyal readers...I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU!


	6. Checkmate

Itachi's too smart to not know how to play chess. I listened to _The Man who Sold the World_ while writing this, MTV unplugged version. What happened to the good old MTV? 'Cause I have no guitar-strumming clue.

A little bit shorter chapter. I got the inspiration from Absolute Chess, on my DSi. Thank GOD for the DSi, because it allows me to read wonderful pieces of fanfiction literature, especially by Quillslinger and Profound Yaoi. They're amazing!

Forgive my horrible drabble of a chapter. Enjoy!

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><p>"Check."<p>

The room was silent with a deathly still. All eyes locked on the man across from him, watching as his hand shakily reached out. He raised his eyebrow, mouthing a slight, silent, _"Are you sure?"_ as the man wiped sweat from his brow, breathing nervously. He nodded slowly and the boy smiled a condescending smile, all razor teeth and corpse-pale lips, blushing pink with the caress of inevitable victory. The man swallowed harsly, silently scolding himself.

_He's a child! You cannot lose, will not lose to this little boy!_ He made his move, _You will not-_

"Mate."

Itachi leaned back in the chair, leg crossed over one knee, arms folded snugly across his chest. The wood creaked lightly beneath his weight, his head lilting inquisitivly. He smiled again, a proud, mutedly happy smile.

_"Good game," _Itachi gave his best smile, reaching out his hand across the board, more black pieces staring down the scarce white.

"Itachi, I'm so proud of you!" Mikoto raved, praising her son profusely. "I can't even tell you-...God, Itachi, the championship! Against Klovsky!" she sighed giddily, "What do you want for dinner? Anything is alright!"

"Mama," Itachi chukled slightly, mussed with bashful pleasure, "It's alri-"

"Oh, I know! Let's go to that new traditional Japanese cafe that opened up! You'd like that, wouldn't you? It was called _Shiki_, right?"

"Mama-"

_"Right?"_ she prodded, poking him in the knee. Itachi chukled once more, shaking his head in false exasperation.

Itachi rested his cheek on his hand absentmindedly, staring out of the window. He nodded languidly, muttering, "Thank you, Mama..."

"Oh, _please_, Itachi! I'm so, so, _so_ proud of you!" Mikoto squeezed her son's knee in assurance. "I'm so proud..."

Itachi smiled at her, then peered into the back seat. Sasuke was sound asleep, head against his hand, resting limply on the window. His dress shirt was unbuttoned at the cuffs, his tie loose and looked bothered with, his dress jacket draped loosely on his shoulder as a makeshift blanket for the car ride home. His hair, which had been brushed neatly, much to Sasuke's dismay and Mikoto's struggle with him this morning, was messily ruffled, contrasting against his pale cheek, a slight blush from a deep sleep painted across them. His pink little lips were parted slightly, soft breaths escaping between. Itachi smiled at the sight of it endearingly. Mikoto glanced at Itachi, then to the rearview. She made a small sound of adoration, a slight "_aww" _barely heard underneath her breath. "You know, he was so excited to watch you, he couldn't sleep. He was up all night, fussing with his tie and hair. All night, 'Nii-san is gonna do great! Nii-san is so smart! There's no way he'll lose to that Russian guy!'" she giggled quietly seeing Itachi's eyes widen in the least, a small tint of rose crossing his cheeks as well. "He adores you, Itachi. He wants to be just like you."

"I know..." he whispered, looking out of the window once more. He chewed at the nail of his little finger. Mikoto swatted at his hand.

"Don't bite your nails."

"Sorry."

They sat in silence for a bit, the hum of the car's motor calming, the air in the cabin soothing, lukewarm.

After a while, Mikoto said, "You know, your father is proud too?"

Itachi made a sound of acknowledgement, earning a small smile from his mother. "He is, mind you. Your father," she sighed slightly, "Itachi, he-..."

"Why did you marry him?" He didn't even look at her directly, sadness clouding his dark eyes.

"Huh?"

"Why did you marry him?" he turned his head to look at her, now. "You could've been so much happier. Why _him_?" his voice held poisen.

"Itachi...well...your father...Fugaku, he...well, I was still living in Japan at the time, and with traditions and such..."

"You married for tradition instead of love?" he asked quietly.

She relented slightly. "I married because I was forced to."

Itachi's eyes widened. "It was arranged?"

"Yes."

"But surely they had to know Dad was like this? They couldn't possibly have...I mean...you suffer so much-..."

"Ah," she waved her hand in dismissal, as if that statement was rediculous. "I don't suffer. And besides, even with someone as hateful as Fugaku, I was fortunate enough to get two boys as beautiful as you," she put her hand on his knee. "I couldn't be more fortunate."

Itachi gave her a tired smile, his lashes shrouding his saddened eyes from his mother's knowing gaze. "I love you, ma..." he muttered.

"I love you, too, Itachi."

He smiled, resting his head against the window, sighing as his eyelids grew heavy. Suddenly, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out.

_Way 2 go, Itamichi. im proud of you._

Itachi smiled. _Thank you, Shisui._

_Love the fuck outta you Itamichi._

_You use the word "Fuck" a lot, Shisui, you know that?_

_Hey its gracious to me it works in so many fucking situations you fucking know? XD _

_Really mature._

_eh. I really do love you Itamichi_

_I love you, too, Shisui._

Itachi smiled at the heart that appeared on the LCD screen just before slipping into unconscienceness.

Itachi dozed off before they arrived home. Mikoto told the boys to take off their dress clothes and change into something comfortable as soon as they walked in the door, so Itachi didn't even have time to inquire why her eyes were swollen and red or even why she was sniffling.

* * *

><p>AN: Yeah, short chapter with hints of arranged marriages and sniffling Mikotos.

Hope you enjoyed! Because I sure loved writing it, and I'm glad people enjoy reading it.


	7. Blood Vessels

Think I forgot ya, didn'tcha? Nope! Didn't. Well, here you go. Six hours in the making. Took three to five days to write it on paper (Scattered moments of time. Wrote it inbetween Latin vocabulary tests and Ancient Greece in AP world. Where do I find the time? In the middle of assignments or whenever I have to clean my room!

Well, the move was successful, and I feel completely at home. You can expect much quicker updates, hopefully, as we settle in. The woods behind our house (Three acres! WOOHOO!) provide wonderful inspiration, considering the river back there I've nicknamed the Nakano affectionatly. Keep your fingers crossed, and enjoy!

* * *

><p>"What is this?" Fugaku spat, throwing the hardcover down on the table beside Itachi, who flinched slightly as the papers flew. Itachi leaned down from his chair to pick up his mechanical pencil that fell to the floor from impact. Fugaku stomped down on his hand, the cheap plastic coating of the pencil splintering underneath the weight, slicing Itachi's palm. Itachi shouted in pain when Fugaku once again brought his heel down on Itachi's sore knuckles, then pressed Itachi's hand down on the shards of plastic. "Well? Litte fucking <em>freak<em>! WHAT IS IT?"

"It's a book, Father," he groaned, trying to pull his hand away; Fugaku only pressed harder. "It's Joe Hill."

"I saw _that_," he grownled, picking up the red-coverd book, adorned with devil horns. "This book is fucking _satanic!_"

"It's not, Father, I swear!"

"SAVE IT!" he pushed Itachi to sit up with his knee, then slammed the psine of the book into the back of Itachi's heade. Itachi his the table roughly, feeling his teeth knock against his lip, knowing it would swell soon. He tasted blood; all too familiar. Once he sat up, once the pain subsided, he opened his eyes to see blood splattered across the paper. Itachi's stomach churned at the strong taste of iron, nausea making him gag slightly for no particular reason evident. He wretched and gagged as dry heaves wracked his body, making Fugaku scowl in disgust. "Worthless brat." He made it a point to slam his palm into the back of Itachi's head once more before he left the room.

Once the dry heaves finally subsided, and the sound of Fugaku's truck rumbling off in the distance got too far away to hear, Itachi opened his eyes, steadily, as to not dizzy himself further. He suddenly caught sight of his little brother, holding fast to his leg. He noted that Sasuke was trembling, almost visibly.

"N-...Nii-san...?" his voice wavered slightly, his shoulders giving a spasmatic jerk, warning him of the inevitable. Tears welled at the corner of little Sasuke's eyes. His bottom lip trembled, and despite his small white teeth gnawing down to hide it, Itachi stroked his hair as he began to cry into the dark blue denim of his jeans.

"Shh, Sasuke...It'll be okay," Itachi soothed, running his fingers across the back of the boy's neck calmingly.

To no avail.

"No it won't, Nii-san!" Sasuke lifted his head, looking into his brother's dark grey eyes, luminated with something of surprise, or, more fittingly, shock, and stained with small, scattered blood vessles, burst from the incomprehensible stress. Sasuke forced his face back to his brother's jeans, gripping the tight fabric as best as he could as he sobbed inconsollably. "He won't stop hitting us, Aniki! He won't stop hitting _you_! _You_ especially! He won't stop, Aniki! He won't stop!"

For such a young child to sob uncontrollably, but to have such clear diction...so comprehensible...He had heard other kids that cried in Sasuke's class, and all that would come out was a babble of hiccupy wails. Itachi couldn't help but be slightly awed by Sasuke's ability to state what was on his mind, even in the midst of despair. It reminded him of his mother, of her audacity, her confidence before she was cut down by Fugaku, when he was but four. She told him to stop. He smacked her into the coffee table and shoved her to the ground with his foot. The same exact wail. "I want him to stop!" He recalled Sasuke's words.

He was surprised at them. "Sasuke..."

"I want him to stoppit, Aniki! I want dad to stop hitting us!" he wailed suddenly, desperatly, impulsively, "I WANT DAD TO DIE!"

Sasuke had a dire look in his eye as he realized what he had just said so loudly. Suffice to say, Itachi was a little shocked. Curiosity pressed him further.

"You wish dad was dead...? Sasuke?" the young boy nodded slowly, his black eyes luminescent with tears turned to the ground, avoiding his brother's gaze. "You would be happy? If he were dead?" he pressed on. Again, a nod, a little steadier, now. "What about Mama?"

"She would be happy, too," Sasuke sniffled, wiping his nose on his sleeve, a few tears welling up, but never quite falling. "And she could remarry...She would be happy-!" Sasuke gasped slightly in surprise when Itachi lifted him to sit in his lap, wiping away the dwindling tears. Sasuke sniffled a little bit more as he wiped at the blood staining his kind brother's lip, then buried his face into Itachi's neck, taking a trembling, yet deep, calming breath in, inhailing the scent of his Nii-san. Sasuke whispered again, _"I want dad to die, nii-san..."_

Mikoto, unaware of her son's distress, strolled into the room, clutching a basket of laundry, folded neatly and emitting heat fresh from the dryer. She hummed the tune to Hole's "Celebrity Skin." She decided to be funny.

_"Hey, look who's at the table," _she caught sight of Sasuke in Itachi's lap, _"Hey, look now there's two of them. Hey, so glad you're-wait...what's wrong?"_ she sang placing the basket by the leg of the table, walking over, a humorous glint in her eye, a worried maternal frown on her lips.

"Really funny, Mama," Itachi rolled his eyes, smiling. "But, I have a weird question."

"Shoot," Mikoto leaned against the table, grinning at her first-born.

"Well...what would you think if dad died?"

"We'd be set from life insurance," Mikoto laughed. Itachi noted silently, almost happily, how she didn't even wince, didn't even hesitate from the disturbing question. "So, why is Sasuke hiding _from me_?" Her voice inclined as she grabbed Sasuke by the sides, her fingernails digging into his sensitive ribs, laughing as he shrieked slightly, his voice breaking. "M-a!"

"He knew you were coming," Itachi deadpanned, thoroughly entertained. "He thought it best to hide while he could."

Sasuke spasmed in laughter, yelling incoherently for his mother to stop, while she shouted an incredibly clear, "Never!". Once she relented, Sasuke collapsed into Itachi's chest, breathless. Itachi stifled laughter as he stroked Sasuke's hair gently. The young almost-tween glared up at him, "Nii...Nii-i-san..I..." he took a melodramatic breath and pretended to faint, letting himself slip to the floor in a mock scene of death.

"God, you _killed_ him!"

"Did _not_!"

"Yes, you did, Mama," Itachi looked down at his brother, who made a poor attempt to appear lifeless. "See?" he nudged Sasuke in the side with his foot gently, chuckling when he swatted at it, dropping his act of departure from life. "Dead."

Mikoto took a flower from the vase on the table, laying it upon his chest in an act of elegaic maternal affection. She gave a saddened sigh. "Oh, well. I guess you're right, Itachi. Looks like Sasuke can't have ice cream. You know. 'Cause he's dead and all."

"It's a miracle!" Sasuke shouted, jumping up and making quite the spectacle of himself as if he were Anne Green, back from the dead. "Where's the ice cream?"

"Liar!"

"Oh, Itachi," Mikoto pretended to ignore Sasuke, who pouted on the floor, "Shisui wanted to know if you could come over to study this afternoon. Some test, or something."

"I'm gonna _die_ again!" Sasuke crossed his arms, shouting from the floor.

"Sure, Mama. What time?"

"Any. Just be home before dinner, okay?"

"Sure."

"Mom! Ice cream, though!"

"Alright, I'll be back later, Mama. I love you."

"I love you, too, Itachi. Have fun."

"I will."

"Mom...?" Sasuke looked up at her pleadingly.

"Hm..." she contemplated. "I'm in the mood for some ice cream..."

Itachi arived a few minutes later, noting silently that his parents weren't home.

_Good, _he thought, _I'm not exactly in the mood to study._

He knocked on the door, hearing a muffled, "It's open."

Itachi toed off his shoes at the door and walked in, closing and locking it behind himself. Shisui was lazily draped over the couch, half-asleep. A light flush was brushed over his cheeks. He lazily lifted his hand in a horrible excuse for a greeting. His shirt was halfway pulled up the length of his toned back, exposing lightly tanned skin.

"Hey, Shisui."

"Mrph..." he groaned sleepily.

"You see those little things on the door? The ones that click and turn? Yeah, they're called 'locks'. Use them."

Shisui lifted his hand and flipped him the bird. His eyes flew open in surprise when Itachi kissed the tip of his finger, leaning down by the tired Shisui's face, kissing the corner of his mouth. He blushed slightly at the sudden show of affection, a light rosy tint adorning the light tan of his face, brushing across the bridge of his nose. Shisui craned his neck to lean up and kiss Itachi on the lips. They pulled away shortly after, Itachi letting his hand rest on the small of Shisui's back, his thumb stroking along his spine. He sighed in approval and Itachi worked up the courage to let his hand slip into the loose waistband of his pants, underneath his boxers, and squeeze the soft, taut flesh of Shisui's ass. He let out a languid breath, relaxing with Itachi's kneeding touch. The younger male blushed softly.

_He really likes it..._ he thought bashfully as Shisui let out a grateful moan. Itachi leaned in and kissed his ear. He smiled as Shisui's dark brown eyelashes fluttered in dizzy appreciation. What Itachi heard next nearly made him faint. Shisui let out a long, low moan, his name escaping the older teen's lips breathlessly. Itachi moaned quietly in return, and, feeling a familiar sensation tug at his groin, gathered up the courage to slip his fingers a little lower, massaging the warm flesh until he came into contact with Shisui's entrance.

"Ahn-! Itachi...!" Shisui groaned, bucking his hips slightly. "You're...never like this..._ahh_..." Itachi circled his entrance, his cheeks flushing at the loud, wanton moan that came from deep in Shisui's throat when Itachi slipped the first finger in, down to the knuckle. The younger male felt his lover's muscles clench around his finger, kissing the corner of his mouth affectionatly.

"God, Itachi..." Shisui muttered breathlessly.

Itachi began to thrust his finger in and out slowly, drawing a surprised gasp from the older male. He gained confidence and began to push his finger in deeper, faster, then pulled his finger out and added another. Shisui's back arched slightly, moving his hips in time with Itachi's thrusts. He watched each of Shisui's reactions shyly, curiously, intently, studying his reactions, wondering if he was doing well. Shisui didn't appear displeased. He matched each thrust with his own, trying to bring some relief to his throbbing groin, grinding his hips into the sofa, body spasming in pleasure. Itachi suddenly pulled his fingers out, earning an irritated groan. He didn't notice as Itachi began to suck on his fingers, lathering them in saliva.

"You...did that on purpose..." Shisui laughed a little, glaring slightly, playfully, "You bra-ah! _Fuck! Ah..."_ His words trailed off into incomprehensible moans of gratitude as Itachi eased three fingers into him, Shisui's muscles clenching against them in ecstasy, the muscles in his shoulders noticably contracting as he gripped a throw pillow for support as Itachi slowly, teasingly finger-fucked him.

"Ahh...ah, _God, _Itachi, faster!" he arched into Itachi's hand, the friction between his hard-on and his jeans too, too much. "Itachi!"

The crow-haired teen smirked inwardly, slowly dragging his fingertips against the clencing walls.

_"Fuck! Itachi!"_ Shisui's back arched into a perfect curve, his shoulders and hips jerking in bliss.

_What did I do...?_ He thought. _Did I do something wrong?_

"I-Itachi...Do that again..." he managed out, shaking slightly, letting himself lock glassy, wanting eyes wtih his young Seme.

Shisui noticed the shocked look on Itachi's face, which was soon overcome with a vibrant red as his eyes relaxed, a shudder wracking his shoulders. Shisui smiled slightly, not letting him see, though. Itachi's eyes scanned Shisui's expression down his body, moving as little as possible. His shoulders were tensed in a stimulated euphoria, his eyes glassy and locked on Itachi. A drop of sweat ran past the half-lidded eyes, his lashes casting tiny, fuzzy shadows on his flushed cheek.s The light of the dimming day cast perfect shadows. Itachi couldn't help by marvel at his utter beauty.

Shisui's bloodline was half "pure" Uchiha, half "Mixed" Uchiha, so it was said. His mother was a beautiful mutt of cultures, Korean-Japanese-Chinese-something-or-other-European...to much to name, but all of them blended so smoothly to make a beautiful woman with a long line of ancestry. But the most evident in it was the Greek. Shisui's hair gave way to that, the sooty color of roasted chestnut blending among the curls that suited him well, his heavily lashed eyes that framed his dark, narrow eyes, inherited from his father, a "purebred" Uchiha. His father was suited with narrow eyes and pale skin, black hair and traditional stature, yet equipt with a knack for mischief. Akashi needed that mischeif and a matching sense of humor to marry the equally hilarious and incredibly lovely Iseul Uchiha; their child sharing their incorrigable knack for troublemaking and wonderful genes that gave him his prodigial blood. The same blood, now, that Itachi greedily lapped up from the puncture wounds in the shell of Shisui's ear, courtesy of Itachi's impossibly sharp canines. Itachi licked the bleeding lobe stingily, sucking up every drop of the crimson life sadistically, much to Shisui's contentment. He pushed his fingers deep inside of him, sighing a loving sigh at the sound that emitted from Shisui's throat when he once again dragged his fingers against the clenching walls.

Itachi chuckled inwardly. He leaned back down to Shisui's ear and whispered, _"I like that noise." _

He dragged his crooked fingers up against that spot again, watching Shisui bite into his wrist to stifle his potentially loud groan. He wouldn't give Itachi the pleasure to know he'd been Uke to him. He wouldn't give him that pride. Another glance revealed, now, that Shisui's wrist was bleeding. He swore silently.

"Don't get cocky," Shisui glared slightly, meaking Itachi laugh aloud. "What's so funny?"

"You invited me over to _study_. You realize I've _had_ Anatomy this year?" Itachi chortled in laughter once more.

"Oh, shut _up_," Shisui rolled his eyes, shooting Itachi a sidelong glance, waiting.

"Oh, well. Couldn't hurt to have a bit more practice."

"I'll say."

Shisui grabbed Itachi's wrists, pinning him to the ground. Itachi silently thanked God that it was carpet. He didn't even scowl. He knew what was to come. (You see, Shisui and Itachi held a slight BDSM relationship. Shisui was dominant, that boundary line was established, and not to be crossed. If Itachi did, he was punished. They came to this agreement without a word; it simply was.) Itachi knew he was in trouble. He teased Shisui, didn't even get him off-_oh, _this _wasn't_ good. A blush crept across his cheeks, a bottomless pit forming in his stomach in a sick anticipation of what was to come. He was in _sooo_ much trouble. Shisui's face drifted inches from his own, tracing his lips with the ghost of a kiss, biting his lip harshly, savoring a moan so erotic, it should be illegal. He wasted no time in slipping his hand past the waistband of Itachi's jeans, stroking his throbbing hard-on slowly through the fabric of his boxers, smirking as he pushed up into his touch desperatly, trying to increase the friction. Shisui gripped it, instead, a bit roughly, pumping it oh-so slowly, his fingers just barely tracing the sensitive underside vein. Itachi made a slight sound of weakness, a mix between a whimper and a cry. Shisui traced the length with the palm of his hand. Itachi had thrown his arm over his eyes to hide the bashful vunerability from him.

"Look at me," Shisui commanded, watching Itachi's eyes flit open, his lashes batting lightly in embarassment. He leaned down, eyes locked on Itachi's, and kissed him full on the mouth.

"God, Shisui..." Itachi breathed, his voice weighted with lust, tinged with his shy demenor, Shisui's lips brushing against his, the soft chapped texture overstimulating, saliva stinging the wound in his lips. Too much, too much. Shisui pulled away, running his nails back and forth over the length of Itachi's still clothed erection. He whispered hoarsly, _"Kiss me again..."_

He locked lips with Itachi once again, the lusting, glassy look in Itachi's watering eyes so full of trust and utter, unrequited dependance. Shisui silently decided he'd let Itachi off the hook...this time. He slowly, impassionatly removed Itachi's clothing, setting it to the side, smiling slightly as Itachi lifted his hips to allow easier removal of his jeans. Shisui leaned down and took a hardened, sensitive nipple into his mouth, sucking lightly. Beneath Itachi's eyes began to burn in delight, moaning out Shisui's name lightly, letting it leave his lips like a butterfly taking wing, drifting into the air. Shisui nipped at the hardened bud and Itachi wrapped his legs around his waist, pulling Shisui up to kiss him, while he instead teased his neglected nipple. Shisui moved his hand away and began his ministrations on that one as well, sucking and nipping at it until Itachi could take no more. He once again pulled his older lover up to kiss him, pulling his hips closer with his legs, grinding up into his crotch. Shisui threw his head back and nearly shouted Itachi's name, suddenly aware of just how painfully hard he was. Itachi continued to thrust into Shisui, moaning with wanton abandon. Shisui reciprocated, grinding into Itachi's hips, panting and groaning, his name escaping every so often in a flood of emotions. Sweating and trembling, they found themselves approaching their peak after a few minutes. Itachi dug his nails into his Seme's shoulderblades, so, so, so painfully close, right at the edge, about to go over, it was too much, it was-Suddenly, Shisui held his hips down.

"Wait...wait, wait, wait..." Shisui panted, struggling slightly to control himself, his own shoulders still spasming slightly in need of release, still moaning slightly.

"Please, Shisui..." Itachi pleaded with the adamant teenager, "Please, I'm...please, I'm so...I'm so close...please!" He gripped the sleeves of Shisui's tee-shirt with trembling, desperate fingers.

Itachi came down from his high slowly, Shisui keeping him stimulated, still stroking his leaking hard-on/ His breath shuddered as Shisui teased the dripping slit with his thumb.

"I'm sorry, Itamichi, but if we didn't stop, we couldn't have done this..." he licked at Itachi's wounded lip, savoring the tang of iron-loaded blood, undressing himself.

Shisui undressed Itachi fully, kissing down his neck, the abused flesh still marred with angry red bruises. He licked along the marks and cuts across his protruding clavicals, kissing across the tender skin, earning a grateful smile from the young teen beneath him. Shisui caught sight of it-did Itachi _always_ smile when they did this?-and felt a tear well in his eye, just to think that this poor boy, poor, abused boy, was so grateful at the end of the day for any and everything that happened in his life; his smile that never failed. Certainly never failed to make Shisui want to bawl like a babe, but that was beneath him, wasn't it? All the times Shisui cried for Itachi? Not when he broke his arm, not when he got stabbed through the calf with a kunai, not when any relatives died...for Itachi. That was beneath him, right? ...right? He didn't mind it. He kissed Itachi gingerly, whispering a sacred, _"I love you forever..."_ across his lips.

When Itachi left for home, it was 7:03, twelve minutes before he was expected home. Shisui saw him off with a delicate kiss to the corner of his upturned lips as he sat on his motorcycle, purring and sputtering impatiently beneath him. The chaste kiss wasn't quite enough, nonetheless. They kissed again, more heated, now, their lips caressing the other's. Shisui cupped Itachi's face in his hand delicately, letting them cradle his jaw, his thumbs caressing behind Itachi's ears in an intimate expression. Itachi drew his leg from the other side of the bike, wrapping arms and legs around Shisui's neck and waist, respectively, in a subliminal message of lonliness and vunerability, speaking sentances, _don't leave me alone, don't let me go home._ Shisui moved forward, reassuring the pain that surged through every nerve in Itachi's body, moving impossibly closer, taking him in deeper, when-

Shisui yelped in pain.

His leg made contact with the hot pipe, singing his leg.

"Ow! God!"

"Are you alright?" Itachi looked down at his leg, leaning down to rub it lightly.

"It's all good," he smiled, and they laughed together quietly.

He gave Itachi a final kiss, seeing the young teen give Shisui that special smile that was reserved for him, the one that said, "I love you so much."

Itachi drove off, and Shisui let himself break down in tears again.

When he returned home, Itachi was greeted with his father waiting for him.

"Where the _HELL_ were _YOU_?" He spat, grabbing Itachi's arm.

"I was at Shisui's, Father."

"You're to be home _before _dinner. _BE-FORE. DO YOU KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS!"_

"It's seven fourteen!" he returned, desperation evident in his eyes.

Gripping his arm tighter, a crack resounded in the room when Fugaku smacked Itachi across the face. His golden band of a broken promise left a nasty welt across Itachi's cheek, a bright, resonant purple.

"You come home _SOONER THAN THAT!"_ he screamed, again, smacking him. Tears popped out of Itachi's eyes unintentionally. "ARE YOU _CRYING?_"

"No..."

"ARE YOU CRYING?"

"No, sir!" he returned as loud as he could, his eyes squeezed shut. He faced away from his tyrannical father. He didn't want to look him in the eye.

"Pathetic fuck up."

Fugaku apathetically threw his son to the ground, walking past him.

"Get cleaned up, then come on. Dinner's ready."

_"Yes, sir..." _he whispered. _"Yes...sir..."_

_Shisui?_

_Yah? _Shisui returned a few minutes later.

_Do you have a diagram of a car's inner workings?_

_Course. Y?_

_I wanna borrow it._

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><p>AN: I really hoped you enjoyed this chapter. It was a total female dog to write. Please review, because if you don't, Itachi will get depressed and shoot himself in later chapters...

...you didn't hear that.


	8. Coming October

Itachi got outside before light. The sun had not yet risen, just peaking through the thick tress, shedding their leaves in the coming October wind. A Jack-o-lantern grinned at him, a faint candle dimming within its hollowed, gutty head, from the porch across the street. The door opened a little and a young girl walked out, closing it behind her. She was still dressed in her pink flannel pajamas, strawberry blonde hair bouncing behind her as she hopped down the steps with that childish energy Itachi envied, yet couldn't help but to grin at. The girl pulled the candle from the wide, toothy grin, blowing it out in a gust of air, her cheeks puffing still lined with puppy fat puffing out with the exhalation of air. She noticed Itachi watching her from across the street.

"Good morning, Aimi-san," he called over to her.

"Good morning, 'tachi-san!" she waved, smiling at him. There was a cute little gap in her teeth from where one had recently come out.

"What are you doing up so early? It's cold out here this morning, you should go inside. Wouldn't wanna get sick, what, with Halloween coming up so close."

"Yeah! The tooth faerie visited me last night, though! I got three dollars!"

"Really? Isn't that pleasant news," he smiled so genuinely at the little girl, the epitome of a wonderful childhood. Itachi silently wished that for Sasuke every day. "What'll you be for Halloween?"

"Umm...I think I might go as Benzaiten, actually. I have a little stuffed dragon I can wear around my neck and get a black wig and everything! What are you going as, 'Tachi-san?"

"Um...I might not go this year," he mused. "I might just take Sasuke trick-or-treating."

"But you _have_ to, 'Tachi-san! It's Halloween!"

"I'm getting a little old for that, Aimi-chan, don't you think?"

"Nu-_uh_," she retorted. "You're never too old to be someone else for a day!"

Itachi stopped for a second. Was this true? You really were never too old to dress up and play pretend? He blinked twice, confusion seeping into his skull. Even if he were to dress up, what would he be? Who would he be? Who would he _want _to be? A boiling pain came up at the back of his eyes; he decided to leave the matter alone.

"That's a good point. I think I'd want to be something that could fly far away from here."

He didn't know he'd said it until the words came out of his mouth and registered in his mind.

Aimi didn't seem to notice the darkness behind those words, and if she did, she didn't pay it any mind; the epitome of childhood's blissful ignorance. She instead said, surprisingly, "'tachi-san, you should be an angel! Except, you should have black wings, 'acause your hair is black. Lotsa angels I've seen are blonde with sparkly white wings. But you'd be pretty with black!"

_"Aimi, what are you doing out there?"_ they heard her mother call.

"I have to go, 'Tachi-san. I'll see you later, 'kay?"

"Okay, Aimi-chan. Go back to bed. It's Saturday, you should be asleep."

They shared a quiet laugh and Aimi turned to go back up the walkway. Itachi watched her disappear behind the door, smiling contently. He turned to face his father's shiny black Toyota, relatively new, and oh-so vunerable. _An angel, huh?_ He smirked slightly, deadly intent gleaming in his narrowed eyes as he pulled the wrench and a diagram of a car's inner workings out of his hoodie pockets. He slid beneath the car and got to work.

Sasuke yawned and stretched, sitting up in his bed tiredly. His arm still hurt a little from when Fugaku had grabbed him by it and slammed him into the wall the previous night, but he didn't mind it as he kicked the covers off of his legs and hopped out of bed, walking to the bathroom at the end of the hall. The sun wasn't quite up yet, and the dim glow cast through the windows along the hallway had an apocolyptic glow, a type of foreshadowing presence cast in a yellowish-green tint. The corridor was plesently warm, despire the eerie aura that seemed to surround the house. Sasuke was still slightly puzzled as to how he had woken up so early. He never woke up before nine, if he could help it. Why _had _he woken up? He shook it off adn closed the bathroom door behind himself. He flicked the light on and locked the door, playing out his daily ministrations of caring for his teeth. He spit out the mouthwash and pushed the footstool in front of the sink, reaching up to the medicine cabinet. Even at nine, he still wasn't tall enough to reach the medicine cabinet without his trusty footstool that he's used since he was five. He undid the lock and and grabbed a pill bottle with the label "Sasuke" on the orange plastic that revealed the white and green capsules within after filling a wax cup with some water. He took one out and swallowed it with the water, noticing the label was steadily peeling off. The letter "P" was barely visible, but legible.

"P? What does that mean?" he peered closer.

The while label was peeling away bit by bit, and Sasuke was far too tempted with the enticing sway of curiosity to just let it alone. He scratched at the corner with his thumbnail, watching it flake off slowly.

He read as they appeared, "P, R, O..." he scraped the sticky white peelings from beneath his nail and continued, "Z, A, C?" he blinked. "Prozac? What the heck does _that_ mean?"

Sasuke shrugged at it apathetically, replacing the bottle in its spot. He noticed Itachi's medications, which inevitably piqued his curiosity. He reached and stretched and wiggled to grasp a bottle from the top shelf, but couldn't quite measure up. The young boy instead climbed up onto the sink and grabbed one.

"It's expired..." he put it back. "This one, too," again, replaced. "And this one, and this one, and this one, too!"

Finally, Sasuke came across an unmarked bottle, a solid shade of eggshell. It appeared to have once been white, but age had withered the color with dust and marred the cleanliness of it. He opened it. Many little white pills lay in the bottle, toppling over one another. He shrugged once more, a habit he inherited through circumstance, and put it back.

The young raven-haired boy wandered downstairs just in time to see his older brother come through the front door, his hoodie now opened, oil staining his usually pristine white tee-shirt. He noticed it also coated his hands, along with a few nasty cuts and bruises. Sasuke didn't pay it mind, instead running up to his brother, as he did religiously, and smothered his face into Itachi's chest, wrapping his arms around his thin waist.

"Good morning, Nii-san! Hey, why were you outside? And all oily?" he pulled back slightly, clinging to the fabric of his brother's black cotton hooded sweater, the shiny black obsidian of his eyes glinting with curiosity as his head tilted cutely.

"Just some matinance on my bike, Sasuke, is all," he petted his younger brother's hair, tousled adorably from sleep.

"Ne, ne, Nii-san! Can we go for a ride later?"

"Sure, Sasuke. In a little while, okay?"

"Okay!"

"Okay. Are you hungry?" Itachi made for the kitchen, Sasuke hot on his heels. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"Pancakes!" Sasuke sat down at the table in the kitchen as Itachi started the coffee pot.

"Okay, okay, pancakes it is."

"_Wiiiith _chocolate chips and blueberries...?" he tried.

"I don't see why not," he smiled, taking out the pancake mix.

The door clicked audiably, smirking inwardly as he poured himself some coffee. He heard his mother call softly afterward, "Be back later!" and the door closed again.

"Where's Mom going?" Sasuke wondered aloud.

"Probably to the store. She'll be home soon."

Itachi walked leisurely over to the small television nustled into the counter, flicking on the news. Sasuke groaned loudly.

"The _news_? Do we _have _to watch the news? It's so booooring, Nii-san!"

"Do you want pancakes?" Itachi threatened subtly.

"Yes..." he sighed, rolling his eyes and propping his cheek up on his hand.

By the time Itachi had set the plate down in front of Sasuke, he was half-asleep from boredom, listening to traffic reports, stock market sales, yaddah, yaddah yaddah. Who cared about the inflation rate in Konoha? Sasuke didn't! But his little head snapped up none the less when the scent of pancakes wafted into his nose. He glanced at the plate and his little eyes lit up.

"Thank you, Nii-san!" he hugged his brother.

The plate was adorned with two hot, syrupy chocolate-chip and blueberry pancakes, topped with plentiful whipped cream and even more blueberries, steam still rising as the creamy white substance melted slowly. Scrambled eggs mixed with provolone, diced tomatos and honey ham sat beside, the hot syrup running into them just as Sasuke liked. Turkey bacon, crisp and chewy, Sasuke's favorite, sausage links, and-

"Coffee!" Sasuke's eyes lit up impossibly brighter.

"Mmhmm," Itachi poured some milk and sugar into it, stirring it as he watched the television idly, hearing Sasuke eat away at his breakfast. He slid the mug closer to the younger boy and he thankfully drank some of the sweetened brew of coffee beans. "It's so good, Nii-san!"

"I'm glad, Sasuke," Itachi smiled, getting up to make a small plate for himself, absentmindedly chewing on a piece of bacon as the words "Breaking News" splayed across the screen, the camera from the helicopter drifting over a shiny black Toyota, smashed like a soda can against a wall of rock.


	9. Police Lights

I'm so sorry, you guys, we've been preoccupied with the house, but be reassured, I think of this story every hour of the day, of the next lemon, of the next plot twist, of the next snappy comment from Shisui...yeah.

I apologize profusely for this unexcusable delay in updates, but we have company over and I'm pushing it already, so here. I hope I can post at least another chapter before the night is over but if not, I'll do it tomorrow. I love you guys!

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><p>Police lights flashed in front of the house, the sirens having been turned off a long time ago. They figured nobody would bother with it. They stared Itachi down, the two male police.<p>

"Well, well, well, Mr. Uchiha, do you know anything about this?"

"I do not." Deadpanning. An art.

"And you're sure?" the cop, pudgy around the waist and in need of a larger uniform, leaned in closer. His breath smelled of rancid coffee. Itachi remained stoic.

"Yes. And don't bother going around my little brother. He has no idea of this either. I've already questioned him for you."

"We'll decide that-"

"You will not," he glared slightly. "You two look like you're dangling on the edge of getting handed that pink slip, desperate to fill your quota. Why don't you go bug some drug pusher on 82nd street instead of drilling two children about an accident they have no worldly clue about? And the fact that it's their _father_, nonetheless. In case you haven't noticed, Fugaku Uchiha is notoriously well known in this city. If you dare go _near_ Sasuke, I'll ensure not only that you get fired from your dead-end job, but never get a job anywhere else in this city, do I make myself clear?"

He threatened them without a single waver in his voice. He cocked his head slightly, his voice inclining oh-so-subtly, crossing his arms over his chest. He leisurly crossed his legs, waiting for a response from the two police men who looked like they belonged on some bad after-school special, the fat one now extremely red in the face.

"You may go," Itachi said bluntly. Both of them turned to leave, closing the door behind them. He looked towards the kitchen archway. "Sasuke."

Sasuke jumped slightly, coming around the door, looking extremely guilty and very similar to a kicked puppy.

"Come here," he held out his hand towards the young boy, who walked over slowly, taking his older brother's with unbridled trust. Itachi pulled him to sit next to him, and he wrapped an arm around his baby brother. Itachi pulled Sasuke close in a secure hug, kissing his forehead, whispering against it, "Don't you be scared, alright? I'm here. Your older brother is here, okay?"

"Okay..." Sasuke muttered, whimpering slightly.

"Dad's injuries aren't that bad, and neither are Mama's."

Sasuke nodded into his chest, snuggling into the soft fabric of Itachi's hoodie, the oil-stained tee-shirt hidden underneath. Suddenly, they both heard an ear-piercing yowl.

"Ichabod, cut it out!" he yelled upstairs. The cat jumped down the bottom step and curled around the wall divider, slinking around Itachi's feet. Poe followed in close, jumping up and curling up beside her owner. "You want a cricket, don't you?" He raised an eyebrow at the cat, who licked his paw innocently. "_Fine. _Come on."

Both felines made a low meow in thanks as Itachi reluctantly released his brother from the hug. He walked into the kitchen and grabbed the container. Low little shrieks drifted from the lid. He unscrewed it and released two live crickets into the kitchen, watching, slightly bemused, as the two cats chased down and devoured the innocent bugs. The snapping of the exoskeleton nauseating and exciting, almost enticing. He wondered how it sounded when his father's head hit the steering wheel. He cringed at the thought of how his mother cracked against the dashboard. They hit head-on, but it wasn't going fast enough to kill. Mikoto had a fractured knee. Fugaku had a slight concussion.

The guilt was weighing down on Itachi's chest. His mother had been in the car. He hadn't known. He cried when the television announced it.

"..._A man and a woman going 65 hit dead on at the turn on Kawa street. No serious injuries are reported, but paramedics say it took a minute to get them out of the car. Apparently, the cause was faulty brakes in the car, taking another blow to Toyota's already declining name in the safety of their vehicles..."_

_"Aniki, that looks awful! Look how badly that car is smashed! It looks like Dad's! ...Aniki?"_

_Itachi stood, breathless, his hands clutching the granite countertops for support, the underside cut at his hands, but he didn't seem to notice. "Oh my God..." he whispered, "Oh my God...No...No..."_

_"Older brother...?"_

_"The man and the woman have been identified as..."_

_Itachi squeezed his eyes shut, "Don't say it, don't say it, don't say i-"_

_"...Fugaku and Mikoto Uchiha..."_

_"MOM!" _

_Itachi wouldn't forget how Sasuke screamed for his mother. He wouldn't forget that he had injured her. His unselfish, caring mother. He was a monster. He was nothing short of a monster._

_His shoulders began to shake, his voice grew hoarse as he whispered, "I'll be right back, Sasuke..."_

_He ran up to his room and grabbed his phone. It was an hour before Shisui finally calmed him down to tell him he wasn't at fault, he didn't know his mother would be in the car. He kept repeating that it wasn't his fault. Itachi didn't believe it for one second. Itachi just kept sobbing into the phone until Shisui offered to come over. He whimpered out a pathetic "Yes, please." That's when the sirens blared outside. That's when Itachi wiped his emotions off on his sleeve and gave a monotone "Nevermind that. I'll see you later, Shisui. I love you, too. Of course."_

_He descended the stairs to see Sasuke peering out of the curtain timidly, and as he heard the stairs creak beneath him, jerked his head hurriedly in his older brother's direction. "Ni-...Nii-san?"_

_"It's fine, Sasuke. Go upstairs. You can bring your breakfast, too. I'll be up in a bit, okay? You can play Portal."_

_"O-...okay...o-okay..."_

_Sasuke jumped to his feet and grabbed the plate, running up the stairs. Itachi opened the door._

_"Good morning, gentlemen. Can I help you?"_

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><p>AN: Hellz yeah, Itachi outsmarted the copz!

I actually recieved a comment that said something along the lines of "Itachi's too smart to be outsmarted by the cops!"

AND YOU'RE ABSO-FREAKIN-LUTELY RIGHT!


	10. Hell

**We've Reached Chapter 10 you guys! I could never have done it without you all! I love you so much!**

Hey, you guys! I have to apologize profusely, and I wish I could bow to each of you on gravel on bare knees in person for forgiveness for not updating in soooo long. I truly do. Meet me in a rock garden one day and we got a deal. Deal?

Well, I couldn't wait for Halloween, and neither could this chapter, unfortunatly. Still got a few days before it (Weeks, actually. I'm gonna die of anticipation to be Itachi! DX)

Well, here it is. I actually lost the papers I wrote it down on so it's really all my fault! **Laughs**

**Enjoy you guys!**

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><p><em>"Are you sure you'll be okay, Mama? I can stay home and help."<em>

_"I'll be just fine, Itachi. Your father is sound asleep from his medicine, and my knee is absolutly A-O.K. And Sasuke needs someone to take him trick-or-treating, and you've always taken him since you were a little boy."_

_"Are you sure...?"_

_"Positive. Sasuke'll be home from soccer practice in a few hours. Better go get in a nap, hm?"_

_"Yeah. Thank you, Mama."_

_"For what?"_

_He gave a small, obscure smile. Mikoto just shook her head and laughed. "Go on, Itachi."_

"'Tachi! 'Tachi!"

His eyes snapped open when he finally regained consciousness, his younger brother's voice drawing him out of a pleasant afternoon nap.

"Yes, Sasuke?" he called wearily, his hand resting on his chest. He didn't bother sitting up, yet. His little brother bounded into the room, his hakama loosely drifting around him as he jumped onto Itachi's chest

"Nii-san, help me with my costume makeup!"

"Wha...oh! Oh, that's right! Forgive me, Sasuke, I forgot," he jabbed his brother in the forehead, chuckling when he rolled off of his chest, landing softly on the bed beside.

"'tachi! Come _on!_ I can't get my hakama right, either!"

Itachi sat up, gazing down at his little brother, whose hakama was mussed and folded over in all the wrong places,the tie half-done and coming loose, still. "I'll say. What did you do to it?"

"Nothing!" the young boy threw his hands up into the air, motioning as if to prove a point, sitting up and hopping off of his brother's bed. The sleeves of the dark brown hakama feel around Sasuke's little bruised shoulders. "How cute..." Itachi thought, slightly amused.

Itachi neatly painted over real scars, carefully going over a seemingly permenant abrasion from when Fugaku threw him across the asphault. He remembered how the skin peeled up, how the summer's heat could've cauterized the bleeding from the nasty wound, how badly Sasuke hurt after that...a flare of anger waved up inside Itachi's chest. He blinked it away, adding fake scars and gashes with theatrical makeup and latex, courtesy of Shisui, eternally the follower of Dionysus.

"Nii-san! You're so good at this," he jerked slightly at how the cold paint tickled his stomach, "you should paint!"

"Well...Sasuke, painting isn't really my...thing, y'know?"

"Mom said you used to paint," Itachi began to wrap his stomach in bandages.

"At one time. Not anymore."

"She said you were really good!" Itachi folded his hakama neatly.

"I suppose."

"She said something happend." Itachi tied his hakama in the back properly.

"Yeah."

"Why'd you stop?" Itachi sheathed the decorative sword at Sasuke's side.

"Because that thing happened."

"What happened?" he brushed Sasuke's hair out, stroking it softly.

He answered patiently, "I went to Hell."

"You-"

The doorbell rang.

"I got it!" Mikoto yelled in that special sing-song voice reserved exclusively for Halloween.

"Go on, Sasuke. Go show Mama," Itachi smiled.

"Okay!" Sasuke pulled on the pristine white socks that he wore with his zori, running downstairs to his mother, Itachi following behind.

"Woah, Auntie, you look _ho-o-ot!"_

Shisui. Always so subtle.

"Why, thank you, Shisui," they heard the confidence in her tone. Mikoto loved Halloween. It was the time of year she got to be someone else.

"Oh, God, Mom!" Itachi covered Sasuke's eyes.

"Mama...isn't that a..._tad_ inappropriate for passing out candy...?"

"It isn't!"

Mikoto was dressed up in a short ruffled dress, paired with a tight black corset, flattering her still-young figure, so short it almost revealed her little red frilly panties, gartered to black stockings, adorned with crimson lace. Her high-heels were sharp-as-knife stilettos, decorated with little scarlet vampire bats, black fishnet arm runners going up to her shoulders. To finish it off, a black and red velvet cape that pinned at her throat. Dracula's wet dream.

Itachi raised an eyebrow at her. She gave an innocent smile, her plump red-painted lips parting to reveal two glued-in vampire teeth, adorned with sparkly black crosses.

His eyes narrowed slightly. No point in arguing. "I'll go put on pants..." she groaned, dragging herself upstairs.

Itachi called up after her, "Don't you have those lace-up jeans with the crosses from that one Halloween?"

"Yeah, I'll go squeeze my _fat ass_ in them!" Mikoto called back. Itachi chuckled. "Does she know she's not fat?" he asked himself.

It was only when he looked away from the staircase that he really noticed Shisui, fully dressed in a Kurt Cobain getup, the same outfit from their Unplugged special on MTV, his acoustic on his back. To complete it, a blonde wig, long and waved, so realistic it might've been taken from Kurt himself. When Shisui turned to look at him, Itachi noticed something that made his stomach lurch forward, his heart thudding uncomfortably in his chest. Blood, bright red blood matted the blonde wig, a gaping hole where his temple should be, half of his ear appearing blown off; so painfully realistic Itachi could've cried.

He almost screamed, when Shisui suddenly noticed him staring fixedly at it, trembling slightly. "Cool, huh?" Shisui poked at the bloody bullet hole. "Here," he handed Itachi a bag.

"You look rediculous," (see: you look amazing.) he sighed.

"Thanks."

"What _is_ this?"

"Your costume! Come on!"

Shisui dragged Itachi into the bathroom without a further word, locking the door, wasting no time in undressing Itachi, letting his hand slip over Itachi's almost-visible ribs, watching as his body shook in a light moan.

"I will _not_ be molested by Kurt Cobain," he glared at Shisui, earning an amused chuckle from the costumed teen.

"Oh, relax. Just put this on," he held out the bag.

"What is it?"

"A costume!"

"I know that. No."

"Oh, come _on_," he sighed, "You'll look great! It was either this, or Courtney Love."

"_Oh_ no."

"C'mon, Itachi...just..." he pulled a black box out of the bag, which held the costume inside. Upon further inspection, Itachi realized it was a heart-shaped box, adorned with tin buttons. In the bottom of the bag was a pair of well-made black wings, feathery and dark. Shisui didn't give him a second to resist before he unlocked the box with an old key that was dangling around his neck on a rusted chain, an audiable click resounding, echoing off of the plaster and tile, and seemed to ring inside of Itachi's skull. Shisui lifted the lid carefully, delicately, as if it were dangerous itself, and dressed Itachi in the black outfit. A black long-sleeved button up that wasn't heavy and hot, but airy and cool, adorned him soon enough; it made him feel weightless. Black slacks, a similar material that was very light and tickled as it brushed against his theighs, the unidentifiable fabric against his legs incredibly delicate. Shisui grabbed a hairbrush from the sink and pulled Itachi back onto the toilet lid with him, sitting him between his legs and brushing out the impressive tresses, watching it flay out, the lighter strands catching the dim light from the old bulbs in their sockets; magnificent. Ethreal.

Shisui stood, leaving Itachi sitting down, and noticed Itachi's hands were gripping the edge of the lid in desperation, his legs open, his head bowed, hair curtaining his face aesthetically, shading away his eyes. He attached the wings to the back of the shirt by some invisible seam, each four feet tall and an impeccable obsidian. He delicatly took each hand in turn, painting every long nail with black laquor. As he finished each hand and released them, in turn, they returned to their anxious grip on the edge. Shisui reassuringly ran his hands over Itachi's arms, kissing his eye lightly, then skimmed his lips down to Itachi's, trembling with some unimaginable cold, craning his neck to reach them. He caressed the base of Itachi's neck lightly.

"Hey, you," his voice hushed, almost a whisper. He waited for Itachi to acknowledge him. Itachi's eyebrows raised ever-so-slightly, his eyes fixed on the floor. "Hey, you're beautiful, you know?"

Shisui kissed his lips gently, letting them skim up the bridge of his nose, kissing his eye once more. Shisui used the oppertunity to slip something onto Itachi's left ring finger. Itachi drew a small breath in surprise as Shisui slipped a smaller box into his hand, again, a heart.

"I love you forever, okay?" he whispered. "No matter what. You're so, so beautiful, Itachi. So beautiful. Not now, but soon. Soon, I'll take you so far away from here. This," he ran his thumb over the gleaming gem, pushing it further up Itachi's finger, to which he responded by suddenly grabbing Shisui's biceps, clinging on anxiously, tightly, his nails digging into Shisui's arm. He didn't even flinch, "is not for soon, but for now. This box," he placed the cold, larger heart shaped box into Itachi's lap, removing his hands from his arms patiently, bringing Itachi's hands down to it, "is a secret. It's the secret of you and me. We're a secret, and so is this. Put all of your secrets in here, and lock them up tight," Shisui slipped the chain over Itachi's head, delicately, and let it hang from his neck, "so no one will find them. Put your innermost secret," he gripped the hand that held the ring box, "inside of the heart. Keep them locked up. Never show them to anyone. They're yours. Show them to only you. I love you. I love you forever."

Shisui whispered the final words, kissing Itachi's eye once more, feeling the lashes flutter underneath his lips. Shisui smiled with his gaze, taking Itachi's face in his hands, leaning close enough to hear him think, and batted his lashes against Itachi's; a small, ticklish, endearing butterfly kiss. Itachi opened his eyes, looking up at him. Shisui silently helped Itachi stand up, taking the boxes and placing them in the bag as if they were dangerously fragile.

"Come on, let's go get some candy. Sasuke's probably throwing a fit by now."

They left the bathroom to see Sasuke waiting, surprisingly patient. His eyes widened at the sight of Itachi.

"Nii-san! You look so pretty!"

Itachi seemed to regain a touch of his consciousness, his cheeks igniting with embarassment and recognition of the fact that he was drowning in reality. Sasuke hopped up, smiling.

"Can we go trick-or-treating now?"

"Sure, Sasuke. Let's go."

They left, Itachi calling back, "We'll be home by ten, Mama!"

They wandered the neighborhood, Sasuke happily joining other kids he knew as they walked to the doors and rejoiced in a joyous chorus of "Trick-or-Treat!", and recieved candy with delightful squeals of, "Look what I got!" and grateful, "Thank you!"s. Sasuke came back to join his older brother, walking with Aimi.

"Y'know, Sasuke-kun, you're a dead soldier! You should totally join me in the afterlife and defend me forever!"

"Of course, my Goddess!"

They laughed and departed, Sasuke returning to his older brother, and they started off back down the street.

Suddenly, "Hey, Itachi?"

"Yes, Sasuke?"

"What does Hell look like?"

A contemplating silence.

Then...

"It's white."

* * *

><p>AN: Do you guys get it? Itachi's little discreet message? My friend Kimani actually fell asleep trying to figure it out, then she woke up, like "OH! Effing Itachi! He pulled a GLaDOS on me!"

Yeah. Newfound obsession with Portal...coincidence? Or mayhaps it be fate? So among Portal, The Crucible, and my new love for two songs by Nicki Minaj (Super Bass, Moment 4 Life)...

Yes, there will be Portal...there will be Crucible references (Shisui accusing Sasuke of witchcraft to cheer him up? I dunno. Certainly wouldn't cheer me up! _Witchcraft be a hangin' error!_) And there will be Super Bass. Very, very Super Bass.

I love you guys so much! Thank you! Thank you for your patience!


	11. Scar Tissue

The night was deathly still, an aching silence resounding in the aphotic room. Neither cats even made it priority to purr, as much as breathe loud enough to hear over the ringing in his ears. Itachi clutched the heart-shaped box, cold and absolute in his shaking hands. The key dangled around his throat, the chain suddenly icy against the back of his neck. He shivered. He could swear he saw his breath when he sighed out. This box terrified him; he didn't know why. It shone in the suddenly very bright moonlight that seemed to hit the silver buttons directly, reflecting ominously onto his face. He wore the charcoal colored outfit of Halloween night, the top buttons undone so the shirt hung slightly off of his bony shoulders, skin pale as the light filtering through the window, his angel wings laying beside him. The feathers weren't synthetic, he discovered; they had fallen off of crows. Itachi realized that that was what Shisui saw him as; A fallen angel. He hoped silently that Shisui didn't think that Itachi was just a project, just a puzzle he could solve. He feared that Shisui would give him the resources he needed to survive, then leave him alone for good. He feared he could actually survive without him. It terrified him to no extent. It killed him to dream of.

He shook off the horrid thoughts that bounced about in his darkened head. He instead let himself wander back to the box, of which he had not taken his eyes off of since the night fell. He thought of the secret; their secret. It was the secret of their existence, kept in confidence as if everything they were was sin. The ring, a purple sapphire stone cut sharp at a precise angle, weighed down his hand affectionately. Itachi knew the consequences if his father found out what this ring was for. He knew how dangerous it was, but he wouldn't take it off. More appropriately, really, was he _couldn't_ take it off. It was tight around his finger. Odd, considering it had been oh-so easy to slip it onto his delicate, bone-thin finger.

Itachi left it alone, discarding the thoughts of the binding ring. He instead slipped the wrought-iron key from around his contracting throat, slipping it into the keyhole. A loud click echoed off of the walls once again as he slipped the lid upwards. The inside was lined in bright red velvet, a tingle running up his arm as he caressed the soft of it with his open hand.

_"This represents us, doesn't it...?"_Itachi whispered, his throat barely able to contract, to allow him to speak it. If he hadn't seen his breath ghost out in a white fog, he wouldn't of believed he said it. _"This is us. This is us."_His eyes flickered over the box, wondering why it was so cold in his room. He laid his hand onto the soft velvet once more, and, for a moment, it was almost like someone had grasped his hand in return. He gasped audibly, yanking his hand away in a shocked reaction. "What-!"Itachi jumped at the sound of his own voice, how loud it suddenly sounded. His gaze returned to the box and he relaxed a bit. "It's just you, Shisui, isn't it? You're always like that."

Itachi was satisfied to hear Shisui's voice in his head give a silent chuckle, an inaudible agreement that he wished to clasp Itachi's hands in his own until the crow-haired teenager stopped trembling. He always kept Shisui in his head with him. It was the only thing keeping him from losing his mind.

The cold began to seep in once again, once Shisui's laid-back chuckle resounded into nothingness and dissipated in his head, and permeated his chest, clawing at his heart with icy fingers. A tear suddenly fell from Itachi's eye. Where had that come from? The depressing cold gripped Itachi's heart with a deadly fervour, and the heat that resounded from the pounding organ burst in his chest violently, sending waves of sorrow washing through Itachi's body, his limbs going stiff in sudden undead rigor mortis. He choked out a sob-_why was he crying?_-and let tears drip down from the corners of his reddened eyes, let them fall off of his gossamer lashes, roll down his flushed cheeks as his head hung backwards loosely, staring at a ceiling he couldn't see, just out of his reach. Small sounds of sorrow escaped from between his parted lips, his breath shuddering with an unforeseen sadness, his breath a ghostly fog with each exhale.

_"The room is so cold. Why is it so cold? Why is it so cold?"_he squeezed his eyes shut and fell backwards onto the bed, laying there with the certainty that he would die within the next few minutes if he remained in this temperature. His eyelids fluttered as if he were in R.E.M.,, shaking painfully as every cell in his body tried to maintain his life, tried to heat up the freezing nerve endings. He could feel him. He felt him, so _so close_. His shoulders drew closer, tensing up as if ready to draw his last breath. But he was so close, _so very close to him now. _He could feel Shisui's presence, as if he were nothing but a spirit, dead and gone, but not quite gone, and certainly not dead. _This is it,_ Itachi thought, his eyes opening, waiting for it, waiting for his heart to squeeze out a final exasperated burst of blood before it froze in his veins, his lungs collapsed, his brain shut down, and he would begone into the final night, he bid his death hurry up with every millisecond that passed and-

_Clink!_

His eyes flew open.

_Clink!_

Was he dead?

_Clink!_

No...no, certainly not...he was not...

_Clink!_

But what was that noise?

_Clink!_

It was so periodic, so precise...

_Clink!_

The heat started to flood the room. He could no longer see his breath.

_Clink!_

But _what _was that noise?

_Cl-Clink clink clink!_

Suddenly, the life returned to him and Itachi sat up, going over to the window, leaning on the sill in time to hear another _Clink!_ against the glass.

_"Shisui!"_he hissed out once he opened the window, _"What the Hell?"_

"Come on!"Shisui gave his languid little smile to the obviously annoyed teen. "Let's go somewhere! Let's do something!"

_"Shisui, it is 3:47 a.m.. Do you know what that means? You should be asleep, as should I!"_

"But you weren't!"he retorted cleverly. "You couldn't sleep. Come on!"

Itachi opened his mouth to speak, but sighed, crawling out of the window and jumping to the nearest tree with a cat-like dexterity. He pulled his legs up onto the branch and jumped from the strong limb, landing beside Shisui onto his feet, absorbing the impact in a crouch. Itachi stood up straight to face his friend. "Where are we going?"

"I dunno..."he speculated quietly. "I'm hungry. Wanna go get something to eat?"

"What could possibly be open at four in the morning?"

"Waffle House?"

"Shisui...you're absolutely insane."

"How _so_?"Shisui planted both fists on his hips, looking slightly offended. "It's a great idea!"he waved his left hand around in the air to accentuate the statement.

"It's four in the morning."

"Oh, come on."

"Why?"

Shisui rolled his eyes. "With me, do you ever need a reason to go somewhere?"

"...Good point..."

Shisui laced their fingers together affectionately, walking him to an old, beat up mustang with badly chipped paint and a motor that hummed smoothly.

"Woah!"Itachi blinked twice, a smile creeping across his lips uncharacteristically, a tone of pleasant surprise in his voice. "You got it running?"

"Sure did,"a surge of pride rushed through Shisui and he smiled, "Finished it last night. Shoulda seen the look on Ma's face when she heard that motor roar. I gave her one of those, 'Told ya so'looks, too. Upped the ante. I knew I could do it."

"To be honest, I was looking forward to when you finished it. It's a nice car, besides a few little kinks,"Itachi ran his hand over the rough hood, the paint chipping lightly beneath his palm. "You gonna paint it?"

"I was thinkin'blue. Not sure."

Itachi smiled back at Shisui.

"I was layin'in bed, thinking about it just sitting there. I realized I hadn't even taken it for a spin yet, and I also realized, we've never been on a real date before,"he smirked lightly at Itachi's expression, "And I know why we can't actually go on dates, but it's four in the morning. Most people who are out at four in the morning don't remember where they are, how the hell they got there, what the hell they were doing, or are going to work. You and I aren't other people. And I doubt that anyone that works with your father will be out at four in the-"

"I get it, I get it, nobody's gonna see us,"Itachi went to open the door when Shisui suddenly intercepted, opening the door for him and shooting him a sly wink when Itachi scowled, plopping down in the seat.

Shisui ambled around to the other side coolly, climbing into the seat and turning up the radio. Itachi relaxed back into the seat, leaning it back slightly and closing his eyes, tapping his fingers to Red Hot Chili Peppers. As the mustang rumbled down the street, a few birds took off from the middle of the road, chirping and twittering irritably. The sky was still dark, ominously dark, and it clouded the cabin of the old car, but it created a comfortable silence that said just enough between them.

_Scar tissue that I wish you saw_

_Sarcastic mister know it all_

_Close your eyes and I'll kiss you, 'cause_

_With the birds I'll share_

_With the birds I'll share this lonely view..._

_With the birds I'll share this lonely view..._

As they drove off, the curtain moved back from behind the window, drifting back into place.


	12. Snapped

A bit of a violent chapter...I apologize if it's very lame. I cannot think of another name for blood, really, besides crimson life, or precious red. And I neglected to use either in this chapter, so I apologize. And on the off chance the chapter isn't horrible, then it is a bit graphic.

It is very late by my standards for I haven't slept in a few days, literally. My sleep was consumed by the blessed curses of sudden inspiration. And playing Mirror's Edge until four in the morning...yeah...that might be it.

Either way, please, please enjoy.

* * *

><p>When Itachi crawled in through the window Ichabod and Poe mewled their greetings. He gave a relaxed grin as he sat between the purring felines. Itachi looked to the heart-shaped box that glimmered beautifully in the light of the rising sun, the stars that dazzled with a gradient of white to pink little balls of light that still drifted high in the sky, down to bloody little red gashes that skirted the sihlouette of the trees. They twinkled as they died in the hot, consuming flames of the inevitable sun, the star to take their splendor and their life, if even for a little while, like a never-ending chain. The world was so violent, so beautiful. For a moment, the world was beautiful. And silent. Painfully, wonderfully silent. In that moment, as well, Itachi felt this beauty drifting in the stagnant silence. In that moment, as well, Itachi felt beautiful. I mean, he had to be, right? For someone like Shisui to sit across from him for the sole purpose of looking at his eyes alone, to shoot him a smile every time they made eye contact, to teasingly, sweetly run his foot up the back of Itachi's calf until he reached the back of Itachi's knee, ticklish to no extent, and the few people still occupying the Waffle House glanced over but didn't seem to particularly care when Itachi's knee hit the table. A few minutes later, Itachi's glare dying down slightly, Shisui made it a point to apologize by lacing his fingers through Itachi's as he thoughtfully chewed on a piece of toast. As they left, Shisui once again held Itachi's hand, his calloused, relatively large, tanned hands, scratched with fervent activity and Itachi's long, bony, pale fingers that trembled with the possibility of arthritis made for an odd, yet affectionate corset. Itachi felt a bit boyfriend-ish (they never used the word) himself and, as they walked back to the car, rested his head against Shisui's shoulder.<p>

"Thank you..." he muttered, barely above a whisper.

"What for?"

"For breakfast," he said thoughtfully, then, "And for being with me." _For loving me_...He added silently.

"Eh..." he waved his hand about in the air, as if to brush off the very notion that it would ever be a bother, "It's my pleasure, Itamichi."

Poe pawed at Itachi's cheek once he lay down on the bed, letting him know he was blushing, the pad of her paw cold against his heated face. She let out a low, sweet mewl. Ichabod curled up against his side, still purring, content to have him home. Itachi petter the sound Ichabod while Poe licked at his hand affectionatly, the rough of her tongue calming, tickling his prickling skin as he closed his eyes, still smiling.

Dawn trickled in like blood off of a hand under water, the red melting into the blue and eventually away, the sun igniting the darkened room like a match to flame. Mikoto came in quietly, as she did every morning, careful of her knee, still. She opened the heavy, light-blocking curtains fully, welcoming the morning, expecting to see Itachi smiling at her from underneath the comforter, probably stirred from a vulgar injury paining him, or a disturbing nightmare once again. _My poor baby,_ she whispered, glancing down to the bed. To her surprise, she saw he was asleep, fully dressed, laying on top of the covers, his hand tossed cutely beside his face, the other draped across his abdomen, curled up onto his stomach, the shirt bunched up around his wrist as he used to sleep a long time ago, before he couldn't. Before he had no reason to dream sweet dreams and succumb to lovely sleep. Before he woke up screaming in the middle of the night. Before he turned seven. Now, though. He was sound asleep, now, a content air drifting in the room. Mikoto smiled, lowering the blinds and drawing the curtains once more, fully this time. She knelt by Itachi, stroking his hair and kissing his forehead, as she did every night when he finally fell asleep. He never knew. Mikoto walked to the dresser and rifled through, pulling out a pair of blue pajama pants.

When Itachi finally woke, he felt the cool of the duvet against his bare shoulder. His hair was let loose of its ponytail holder and rested comfortably splayed across his shoulder and the pillows, stacked up so that his head just barely sunk in, supporting his neck that ached horribly when he woke up. Now, there was no pain...Instead of the black pants he wore last night, he wore his blue plaid pajama pants, and his shirt was nowhere to be seen, as were his wings, or his heart-shaped box; he didn't notice. Was last night a dream? If it wasn't, Itachi certainly didn't remember dressing for bed. Behind the curtains, barely visible was the burning sun. It was late in the afternoon, he decided.

Itachi pushed himself up and kicked away the covers, a refreshing feeling of utter relaxation washing over him. He grabbed the closest shirt he could find, which was, coincidentally, Shisui's, and slipped it on over his head, the key still around his neck. He made his way downstairs, his mother turning to him as he walked through the archway.

"Good morning, Itachi," she looked at him from the corner of her eye, now, as she turned back to the dishes, plunging her delicate, pale hands into the steaming, soapy water.

"Morning, Mama? It's twelve in the afternoon!" he laughed quietly, and hugged her around the waist, smiling into her shoulder.

"Well, Itachi, you were actually asleep! The first time in ages. I didn't want to wake you," she laughed aloud, a joyous ring. "You looked so comfortable."

Itachi pretended to ignore her, making it obvious by letting his eyes wander around the room. "Where's Sasuke?"

She rolled her eyes, "You have an unhealthy obsession with your brother, boy. He's in the garden, picking the tomatoes before it gets too cold for them to survive. He's so impatient about them, I swear."

"Okay. How's your knee?" his gaze wandered down for a milisecond before his gaze returned to his mother. Her knee was still bandaged, but it was free of its cast.

"Right as rain. Hasn't bothered me a bit."

"I'm glad," he smiled, relieved. "So, Dad hasn't fallen into a coma yet, I'll assume."

Mikoto sighed slightly, "No, unfortunatly. Y'know, I've considered beating him in the head, just to help the damage along."

They both laughed at the idea when Itachi caught sight of a nasty bruise in a very uncommon place, and another on her theigh, the shape of fingers. Matching ones adorned her throat, the size of Fugaku's hands. Rage ignited. His temper flared.

"What's this?" he asked, a little more menacingly then he meant.

"Just a bruise, is all."

"It's not, Mama, and it better not be what I think it is," Itachi's hand made for the knife, clasping it in his shaking hand, turning to leave. "It better _not_ be."

"No! Itachi!" she grabbed for her son's wrist, jumping back when he turned, the knife poised above his head, in a terrifyingly accurate angle to slice her throat with relative ease and a killer's precision. They froze like that, a statue of sickly sweet intentions. Mikoto whimpered, "I-Itachi..." and the statue shattered as she began to cry. They fell to their knees together, holding eachother for support that wouldn't come. Itachi wrapped his arms around her, the flat of the blade pressing to her back. Mikoto buried her face into Itachi's chest, hiccuping and sobbing and shaking her head pathetically, in a desperate denial that she, in fact, hadn't just seen her beloved son pull a knife on her. Itachi kissed her temple over and over, whispering, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." They heard footsteps behind themselves and Itachi pulled Mikoto closer into himself, looking over his shoulder. Through the opened door that revealed young Sasuke picking the bright red tomatoes, he saw Fugaku grab his wrist.

In his head, something clicked.

"Don't you touch him!" Itachi screamed, bolting up from his position on the floor, running through the open door as he tightened his grip on the knife. Mikoto screamed. Sasuke bolted out of reach of his father as Fugaku released his wrist, hiding behind the porch foundation. He trembled as his brother ran at their father, screaming a broken, violent scream. _"Don't you touch him!"_

The fist that held the knife made contact with Fugaku's eye first, busting against his cheekbone, lacerating the skin stretched tight over his white knuckles. Adrenaline was his heroin. His knuckles bled against Fugaku's bruied cheek, leaving behind bright red peonies, just for healing. Fugaku, stunned, grabbed blindly for his wrist, his large hand gripping Itachi's fragile joint of a wrist and, with his free hand, punched Itachi in the jaw.

"YOU FUCKING _BRAT_!" Fugaku screamed, repeatedly beating Itachi wherever he could reach on the struggling teen. Itachi twisted and jerked and punched and kicked and screamed like an enraged animal as blows landed harshly on his shoulders, jaw, ears, face, chest, anywhere, anywhere Fugaku could reach. Itachi tried to dig the blade into Fugaku's forearm, jerking about just to gouge the vein out of his father's wrist, to get the advantage. Their struggle moved backwards and Itachi landed on the stairs, the breath knocking out of him as he snarled in pain. Sasuke ducked behind the foundation. Mikoto fell back onto her bottom, scooting into the corner of the counters, watching what had been brewing for so, so long. Itachi struggled and gasped as Fugaku's fist landed dead on his throat, coughing a violent, shoulder-wracking cough, blood spurting up like a fountain, spraying across Fugaku's face, twisted in disgust and anger as he snatched away the knife and brought it down.

Fugaku relentlessly beat Itachi with the butt of the knife handle, leaving bloodied gashes in his shoulders, his mouth flooding with the taste of blood. He struggled to free himself from his father's tyrannical grasp, managing his foot up just enough to kick hard into his father's sternum, knocking Fugaku off of himself. Itachi rolled over, pulling himself up onto the stairs weakly, heaving up blood over the side of the stairs, onto the pristine white roses, in a dizzy haze. He blindly felt around for the railing to support himself on, if it was just to pull himself to sit on the stair properly. He caught sight of Fugaku on the ground a yard or two, a large mass of a body shaking with coughing, spasming with need of oxygen. He clutched his chest, sputtering like an old, dying truck, or his Toyota when it hit the wall. The knife lay a few feet away, out of reach of either of them, a few spots of blood staining the blade's tip, down the edge. The adrenaline washed away as he saw it, suddenly painfully aware that his shoulder was bleeding profusely, and how much it hurt. It was an effort-a bother, really-to breathe, the cold November chill paining his lungs already filled with blood. Itachi coughed into his hand, and upon drawing it away saw some of the blood that rested in his lungs now on his pale skin. He closed his eyes and willed himself calm, knowing that succumbing to an anxiety attack and breathing in all the frigid air wouldn't do him any good. He didn't see the shadow loom overhead, of the deadly, glassy gaze that watched him carefully, deadly as a vulture who's caught sight of his prey; a vunerable carcass. Itachi could only think of how he had snapped when something cracked in his chest, a sharp pain radiating in his ribcage, vibrating like a xylophone into his lungs, through to his heart, gripping with cold, sharp hands. He collapsed back as his father shoved him into the stairs once again, Itachi loosing what little breath he had pathetically. He lay, stunned for a moment, almost paralyzed. Sasuke, trembling with cold and tears, peered from around the foundation, whispering his brother's name in a silent, desperate prayer. Mikoto could only tremble, hand over her mouth as she clutched her shirt, her panic giving way to a violent attack of nerves, hyperventilating into her shaking palm. A cold, howling wind ripped through the air, then silenced everything, the still not unlike after a bomb goes off, the damage insurmountable, immesurable, irreversable. Itachi gritted his teeth and made up his mind once and for all as he curled up into a ball on the stairs, sweating in the cold.

It began to snow.

* * *

><p>AN: Yeah. It's snowing now.

Well, I got the idea for the first date from my own Mother and Father's first date.

Well...official one, anyways. And my stepfather.

It doesn't matter, though. She worked in a bar, got off at three in the morning. He picked her up, they went to breakfast at Waffle House. Yes, this is a total A.U., though I will leave it up to the imagination to how old they really are, because my mind cannot be logical and allow me to come up with a definate age, because I see them at different ages through each chapter, I make Shisui too old, I make Itachi to young, blah, blah blah...

Mom told me the story over breakfast at Waffle House with my sister. It was so endearing to hear Mom describe Dad as "Handsome, with blonde hair and bright blue eyes, how he would take off his glasses and smile at her..."

Ah, young love. She was but twenty, that one. And gorgeous. Still is. My parents exist in an eternal aesthetic state, it seems, they get more beautiful with age.

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, be it graphic, or uplifting, or boring, or sad. I hope you at least derived some entertainment from it, even if it was just from how poorly it was written that you got a good laugh.

Goodnight from the Guardian of the Nakano!


	13. Goodnight

A bit of a bloody warning to you guys. I'm sorry I can't describe the whole feel of it correctly, and it's a bit rushed because while I played Naruto this morning, the whole idea came into my head with a sudden flood, and I felt the flood become physical. I began to cry at an idea born of nothingness. Isn't it beautiful how things that don't exist touch our hearts? Then again, I believe that if you believe, it's real. I know it sound corny, but yeah, it's my opinion.

The song belongs to me and is called, obviously, Goodnight.

Well, enjoy!

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><p><em>Goodnight, Goodnight<em>

_This is the final moment, _

_This is the last second we've been waiting for_

_Everything's drifting away_

_Goodnight, goodnight,_

_Parting is such sweet sorrow_

_Until we grow tired_

_And fall asleep_

"Itachi? Itachi, you there?"

He fell silent. The static rattled Shisui's voice as he called for Itachi, who had dropped the phone onto the bed. Itachi sat on his bed, almost entranced, then whispered simply:

_"I have to go..."_

"Itachi? Ita-..."

A dial tone. Itachi lifted his finger from the button and left the room, walking on cat's feet, silent and ominous towards the hall closet. The door didn't creak when he opened it. The sound of metal clanking together echoed lightly in the corridor. He left the blanket lying on the floor, a bright red, like blood on the floor, peaking out from behind the door left ajar. The stairs were silent beneath him. He passed Sasuke's room to check if he was sleeping. There was light snoring from behind the door. He continued. Once again, the door didn't creak. The metal was cold in his hand. He could practically smell the sulfur now. He was so drawn to it, he was anticipating the ringing silence, the scent of blood wafting towards him. He sighed. He let the door close slightly behind himself; Sasuke was a heavy sleeper.

_Goodnight, goodnight,_

_This is everything I've ever wanted but never been able to-_

_This is for Sasuke's tooth_, he thought, walking across the room. _This is for Mama's knee. This is for Mama's arm. This is for Mama's life. This is for Sasuke's arm. This is for Sasuke's shoulders. This is for Sasuke's childhood. This is for my deprivation. This is for all the times I couldn't see Shisui because of you. This is for Mama's freedom, because you could never love her like I do. This is for Sasuke's precious life, because you could never cherish him as I do. This is for this house, that holds the ghosts that haunt me because of you, that has my blood staining the walls and my shoulder indentions in the walls, and my paintings locked up in its closet, because of you. Of the people you've destroyed. I know what you've done. I know everything you've done. When Sasuke saw you beat me for the first time that lead pipe. My blood was everywhere. All he did was ask. All he did was ask why you did that, what I did wrong. I did nothing wrong. Neither did he. But you, you sick bastard. You put my blood into a glass and made him drink it. I know it. He vomited from it and you just kicked him and made him drink more. You've threatened him. You've smacked him around. You've smacked everyone around because you're a loner and an idiot and a total bastard and could never get anyone to love you. That's why you wanted to marry Mama. You thought she would be a submissive person. Mama's stronger than you know. But I know, too, what you've done to her. You've raped her. On multiple occasions. That's how I was conceived. Of hate. And I hate you. I hate you. I hate you so much, I could kill you. I hope you die. I want you to die. I really, truly, hope you die. You've done nothing but hurt us. Hurt them. This is for Sasuke and Mama, because you could never love them as I do. This is for Sasuke and Mama, because you could never cherish them as I do. I want to kill you. This is for Sasuke, and Mama, because you could never love them. You could never cherish them, you could never realize how precious they are, how truly deserving of love they are, and how badly you've pushed them. And me, Father. Me. Because I was never good enough for your expectations. That's why I was beat up every single day. Because I was just never good enough..._

He smacked Fugaku across the face with the cold steel. _That woke you, didn't it?_ He laughed. "What the Fuck...?"

_Am I good enough for you now, you stupid fucking idiot? Am I? _He pressed the barrel right between Fugaku's dazed eyes, still glazed with sleep."Am I good enough for you now?"

Click.

He didn't wipe the blood from his face when it splattered. Fugaku's eyes were still open, staring up at Itachi, who stared back, solemn and content.

He began to walk away.

"Itachi...?"

His eyes snapped open.

"Itachi...? What are you...?"

Mama was a sound sleeper too. _I wanted you to sleep soundly. _

"Mama?" Itachi turned around. The blood dripped off of his face, clinging to his eyelashes, falling like tears.

"I-Itachi...?" her voice trembled, misconstruding Itachi's mind. _Aren't you happy?_ "What did you do?"

Mikoto's eyes widened as she looked down at Fugaku, who stared at the ceiling in a state of petrification. _I put him to bed._

"Itachi!" her voice sounded excited. _Why do you sound like that, Mama?_

"You really did it!" her voice broke in joy.

_Mama...don't look at me like that! Don't say it like that!_

"I can't believe you would do that, you crazy bastard!" she laughed.

_She's crying! She isn't happy! Why isn't she happy?_

"Itachi! Itachi, I'm so-huh?"

_"Don't look at me like that..." _he whispered, barely audiable. Mikoto sat up.

"My sweet baby, what did you say?" Mikoto went to sit up. "What did you say? Tell me. Come here, Itachi," she held out her hand for him to approach her, sitting up, eyes relaxing. "Come here, my darling."

_"Don't talk to me like that. I wanted to make you __happy__." _He began to tremble. "Don't talk to me like you did when I had to go away!"

"Itachi?"

"DON'T TALK TO ME LIKE I'M CRAZY! QUIT LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT! I'M NOT CRAZY! I'M NOT! I HAD TO GO AWAY BUT I'M NOT CRAZY! I'M NOT CRAZY!" Itachi lifted the gun to point between her eyes. "DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT, MAMA! I SWEAR I'M NOT CRAZY! I'M NOT CRAZY! I'M NOT CRAZY!"

"Itachi, I know you're not! Baby, calm down! Calm down, Itachi, come here!"

"STOP IT! I DID THIS FOR YOU! I DID THIS BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, MAMA! I LOVE YOU AND SASUKE AND I WANT YOU TO BE HAPPY AND EVERYTHING IS GOING TO BE FINE NOW I KILLED HIM HE'S DEAD NOW AND WE DON'T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT HIM EVER AGAIN BUT YOU'RE JUST GOING TO SEND ME AWAY AND I DON'T WANT TO GO AWAY MAMA I WANT TO STAY HERE WITH YOU AND PROTECT YOU FOREVER BECAUSE I OWE YOU THAT _MUCH_!"

"I-...Itachi..." this was the first time she ever truly feared her son.

"DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT!"

Snap. Click. Splatter.

His breathing came out heavily. His mother, too, looked at him now, with a blank expression. Instant rigor mortis kept her hand stretched out towards him. He woke up.

"Mama?"

_Goodnight, goodnight_

_I'm miserable, and, frankly, exhausted,_

_And All I want to do is sleep_

_Goodnight, Goodnight,_

_Just to be able to say_

_Goodbye to you,_

_I think I will cry, because I'm so glad_

_"Mama...?" _he whispered. _"Oh, God...Oh, God, what did I just do? WHAT DID I DO?"_

_"...'Tachi...?"_

Sasuke peered around the door.

_"Oh, God...Oh, God..."_

"..'Tachi, were you having another nightmare...? You can come in my room if you-!"

Itachi will never forget how Sasuke screamed.

"I-I...B-big bro...brother...Mom...and D-Da...Dad...what h-happened...what happ..happened?"

"Sasuke..."

"Itachi! What happened? WHAT HAPPENED!"

"SASUKE!"

Itachi dropped the loaded gun, making Sasuke flinch in fear that it would go off. His older brother dropped to his knees, pulling Sasuke into his arms. Sasuke shook like a leaf, clinging to his brother's shirt, his eyes adjusting to the dim light just enough to see his mother reaching out for him.

"Mom! Momma! Momma!" he wiggled out of Itachi's grasp ("Sasuke, don't!"), and jumped into his mother's lap, wrapping his little arms around her neck. "Momma, what's wrong, what's wrong! Why are you cold! Do you need blankets? Momma, answer me! Momma! Mommy! Mommy!" Sasuke shook, pushing his mother's shoulder in hopes it would provoke response. It would not. The pushing turned to shoving, the shoving into hitting, and hitting into beating, battering her shoulders and chest with his fist as if he could restart her heart after her brain hemmoraged, as if she would blink and laugh and say, "Gotcha!", as if she would wrap her cold arms around him and hold him until he stopped crying into her dead embrace. Itachi came over and picked Sasuke up. He began to flail about, trying to free himself. "No, let me go! I want my Momma! Itachi, I want my Mommy, please! Itachi, please!"

Itachi almost fell to the ground trying to hold the flailing child, instead subduing him into a tight hug as he gave up slowly. He sobbed into Itachi's chest, his small fingers clawing at the fabric of his nightshirt.

_"This is all your fault..." _he whispered.

"W-...what? Sasuke...?"

Sasuke pulled out of Itachi's arms, screaming, "This is all your fault!"

Tears welled at the corner of Itachi's widened eyes, brimming, just before they fell.

Sasuke turned on his heel, suddenly, and walked up to his cold father, laying in bed with a neat little bullet hole in his head. He screamed into his face, "This is all your fault! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT YOU STUPID _FUCKER!_"

"Sasuke..." he whispered, and sat and watched in awe as Sasuke screamed out years of frustration and desperation in the form of vulgar obscenities and screaching curses.

"AND I'M REALLY, TRULY, WONDERFULLY GLAD YOU'RE FUCKING _DEAD!_" Sasuke finished, panting slightly. He walked around the bed to his mother, lowering her arm, folding them in her lap carefully, elegantly, incredibly appropriate, and tastefully sweet, just like her. He used the duvet to wipe away the blood from her forehead, taking a comb off of the vanity and brushing her hair to neatly cover the wound. He kissed his mother gently on the lips, closing her eyes. _"Goodnight, Momma..."_

Itachi let the tears spill over, dripping down his cheeks. Sasuke whispered lightly, "I love you..." letting a few tears escape his eyes once more.

He walked back over to his older brother.

"Will we bury her?"

"Cremation is safer. And we can keep her with us always."

"What about _him_?" he cocked his head towards Fugaku.

"We'll just burn him in a pit."

Sasuke smiled. "Everything will be okay if Mom is with us always."

"Yeah. Everything will be alright. We can go tomorrow and get two urn necklaces. Remember we saw them at that one store?"

"Yeah. I want navy blue. That was Momma's favorite color."

"It still is."

"Can we cremate her in that really pretty blue dress she has? I think she looks beautiful in it," he glanced back at her.

"Of course we can..."

Sasuke looked back once more and smiled up at his brother. "Let's go to bed, Aniki."

Itachi picked him up and carried him into his room, laying down beside him.

_"Goodnight, Aniki..."_

_"Goodnight, Sasuke..."_

_Goodnight, goodnight,_

_This is to everything that we've lost_

_And to everything we could never have_

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><p>AN: Yeah, I'm no good at writing heart-wrenching emotions. I just hope you guys liked it. Haven't heard from you guys in a while and I realize that, according to WinglessFallenAngel (I love her so much! She always leaves reviews, so she's, liek, mah fave.), the update system is shotty on . So I hope you guys read this chapter and if it really is that shotty, I'll be happy to reply to your comments whenever I update!

I love you guys!


	14. Whisper

Hey guys! I'm back!

Yeah, I know, it's been too long, but I'm telling you, I've probably had the world's worst case of writer's block ever!

I literally could NOT bring myself to write for days!

But I got on Google Documents at school, listening to iNSaNiTY by SF-A2 Miki and KAITO, I suddenly had inspiration.

So, here it is! Enjoy!

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><p>"It wasn't your fault,"he whispered. "It wasn't, Itachi."<p>

Itachi just sat, completely still. "It's all my fault,"he returned, not quite letting the noise escape his throat.

Shisui laced his fingers through Itachi's, kissing him sweetly, reassuringly on the lips. "It isn't, cara mia. Trust me, won't you?"

Again, "It's all my fault..."

Something in the air sparked.

"It isn't your fault, I said!"Shisui suddenly stood, screamed, and grabbed Itachi by the throat.

Itachi clawed at Shisui's hands, but to no avail, for the older teen was so much stronger than him. His biceps flexed visibly as he squeezed down tighter on Itachi's windpipe. His vision began to blur. He blindly clawed at Shisui's chest, ripping at his shirt, scraping away at his skin, until his nails permeated the epidermis, then plunged into his dermis. Blood splattered onto Itachi's face and hands, staining his once-pristine shirt. Shisui continued to grip harder, his eyes narrowing into barely-there slits, his irises suddenly a bloody, bloody red. His vermilion eyes locked onto Itachi's, pleading, pleading for his friend to let go. Instead, he heard in reply, "It's not your fault!"

Itachi screamed something not unlike a broken sob, and plunged his hands deeper into Shisui's chest. His hands locked around something cold and metallic. He got a hold of it and pulled.

Suddenly, Shisui's grip locked, hardened, but at least it loosened a bit. He no longer screamed. Itachi looked down to his reddened hands, covered in the strong smelling crimson.

In his hands lay the heart-shaped box.

He woke up, screaming, sweating, shaking. He looked down to his hands, in fear that they were, indeed, covered in his lover's blood. They weren't. Instead, it was his.

Itachi threw the covers off of his legs and moved over to the mirror.

_"Shit,"_he hissed, _"I knew it."_

Itachi dabbed at the corners of his aching eyes, blood ebbing away onto the soft cotton tee, once a pristine white.

That nightmare was nothing new. And neither was the fact that his eyes bled horribly every time he had it. The medical oddity was even metempirical to Itachi's optometrist of six years. He suggested a surgery that could possibly correct this atypical medical occurrence, but the arduous recovery and little possibility that this would, in fact, be corrected didn't sound very appealing to Itachi, so he declined. Once again, Google never seemed to help for a suitable solution to his bleeding eyes, so he resolved to simply deal with it.

Though, it didn't help the fact that Sasuke got scared every time he stumbled tiredly into his brother's room and saw him clutching his head, the sheets again stained beyond help.

Itachi kept the most painful eye shut (He had mastered this technique through circumstance. Very helpful, if not a bit unnecessary in other situations.) and blindly felt his way into the bathroom. Rather than just flush his eyes, he instead turned the shower on to cold, and sat on the closet toilet for a moment to catch his shallow breath.

_What is happening to me? _he thought sullenly, confused. _Why is this happening all of a sudden?_

He sighed his way through chest pains and inhaled the clean smell of the running water, making the atmosphere of the bathroom balmy; calming.

Itachi stretched out his aching limbs and undressed slowly, so his joints wouldn't bother him, noting every new scratch and bruise he had somehow acquired throughout the night.

The wounds appeared spontaneously every night. He never felt them until he noticed them, and often just disregarded them as Ichabod or Poe's doing, or he turned over in the night and scratched himself on something. He shrugged once more and climbed into the shower, letting the cold water hit his body like icy nails, the stinging nettles of water calming, cooling down his suddenly feverish temperature. He leaned back against the tile, sighing, letting his head lay against the cold wall of the shower. He tilted his chin upwards so the water ran against his throat, bruised and burning, and irritably sore. Everything hurt. He crossed his arms over his chest to rub his stiff shoulders, his hair pushed back by the cold fluids. He turned his hands to wrap around his own throat, staying like that for a moment. He began to squeeze down on his neck, without knowing it. His eyes flitted to the ceiling, black as coal, burnt out, too.

His hands continued to tighten, like a boa constrictor, without restraint. He smiled, almost, as he began to breathe heavily. The muscles in his arms convulsed, twitched, with anticipation and dread and joy and the great feeling that he was going to die. But he knew he wasn't, and, suddenly, his hands dropped to his sides. Itachi weakly turned over to lay against the tile again, pressing his cheek to the cold wall while the water chilled his bones and prickled the pale skin of his back.

All of a sudden, he heard it. Not loud, at first, no, it never was. But quiet. Oh-so quiet. They stirred in his ears, the whispers to which he couldn't recall who they belonged to. With a sudden crescendo, they escalated in pitch, too. They sang words of sin and sacrifice and whispered things he couldn't understand because they were all jumbled together.

Itachi latched his palms to his ears in distress, desperatly wanting to block out this horrible sound that penetrated his skull. He pressed his feverish forehead to the icy cold, wishing for deliverance against the burning skin he was encased in. The whispers only got louder; he couldn't escape it. His whole body would surely burn up if he couldn't abate this horrible heat! Surely it was Hell to grasp his soul! This was all his fault! All his fault! He scratched desperately with his long nails at his biceps until they were red and raw and bleeding. No good, he thought, the blood is hot, too!

Itachi slid to his knees gradually, struggling to stay upright. When his knees hit the tile, his head shot up in pain cracking cruelly throughout his body, through his pelvis, shooting up his spine. He threw his head back in a silent scream, and collapsed. He curled up beneath the chilly spray and clung to himself as if they would become unprehensible, as if he would melt away beneath the water's cooling properties. Itachi shrugged himself up slowly onto the slanted back of the shower and lay his head weakly on the side of the tub, his hair clinging to the back of his neck, to his shoulders, and to his back. He smiled, he rested his cheek against the plaster, and sighed relief. The whispers disappated in his head and instead was replaced with a soothing hum, courtesy of Shisui, singing him to sleep with "Cara Mia."

Itachi whispered, "Goodnight."

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>AN: Yeah, not so good considering the huge wait, but I'll start updating, (HOPEFULLY), a lot faster. Thank you guys for reading!Oh...yeah...and if you could push that little review link down there...I would really, **really **appreciate it. BYE! 


	15. Love Me

Haven't updated in too long, and not too much of an eventful chapter, but I just HAD to reference the Sharingan and Itachi's bleeding eyes. It was completely necessary. Anyways, fluffy chapter. Enjoy!

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><p>"Itachi, you need to be more careful, y'know?" Shisui drew the comforter up over Itachi's still damp shoulders. His soaked hair clung to his face and neck and moved slightly as he shivered. "You can't go falling asleep in freezin' cold showers! You're gonna get sick."<p>

Itachi slowly turned his head to look at his dear friend, the look in his eyes already sick, and red, and incredibly tired. All Itachi could think of was Shisui's soft, dark eyes, drenched in that horrible crimson. His eyes scanned Shisui's face wearily, for a sign that he was about to try and choke him to death, but none shown, from his eyebrows knitted together in worry to his lip, red from being chewed on in anxiety. "...I know."

Shisui absentmindedly stroked Itachi's hair, so cold that he was surprised that it hadn't frozen and chipped off like the icicles outside of the window. "Why would you do somethin' like that? You scared the crap outta me, 'tachi."

"How did you even know?" he asked suddenly. "How did you know I was in the bathroom? Weren't you home?"

"I was asleep _be__**side**_ you, Itamichi."

Itachi flinched when Shisui's voice trembled. Shisui reached out with a canny hand and traced Itachi's tear trough with his knuckles. It was this common, yet affectionate gesture that prevented Itachi's nightmares, whenever Shisui swept his knuckles over Itachi's lidded eyes, whenever he was lucky enough to have Shisui beside him at night.

Shisui looked over Itachi's lithe body, knees curled into his chest, bent over them with an inhuman flexability, supressing an endearing chuckle. He took the dampened towel to Itachi's hair, ruffling it over the long, dark tresses. Itachi closed his eyes as Shisui dried out his hair with warm intentions. His mind wandered back over the events of the night. _Had Shisui really been there? Had I not known?_ He gritted his teeth silently, his lover running the terrycloth over his shoulders, ridding him of any water remaining on his chilled skin. _Yes, he was_, Itachi remembered, about how Shisui had neglected to rid Itachi of his nightmares, instead kissing him gently on the lips. It had escalated a bit more after that, but Itachi pushed those thoughts off to the side. The nightmare crept back into his mind on little cat feet, silent and daunting, and made his fingers tingle at the rememberance of the cold sensation of the box, damp with blood. He recalled what he had not remembered before, of how Shisui's dead crimson irises remained locked onto his, how tears had dripped from the corners of the stone eyes. How his lip still seemed to quiver. How he tried to kill-

Itachi let out a shreik, eerily similar to a dog being shot and left for dead, breaking off into a low whine. He began to thrash about, covering his ears, repeating constantly between the frenzied breaths of hyperventilation, "NO, NO, NO!"

"Itachi! Itachi, baby, calm down! Calm down!" Shisui grabbed his Itachi's wrists, trying to subdue him. _What are you doing, you idiot? You don't grab someone who's having a panic attack! I know that!_

He pulled Itachi backwards into his lap, pulling Itachi back against his chest. "Itachi, Itachi, calm down okay? Come here, come on...Feel me breathe, Itachi? Just breathe, okay? Like this." Itachi clasped his hands over his ears, desperatly trying to drown the noise. "No, no, Itachi," Shisui pulled Itachi's hands away from his ears, wrapping his arms around Itachi's waist, pulling him back to rest against his chest. "Shh. Here, see? Breathe, slow now, okay? Shh, it's alright, okay? It's alright."

Itachi felt Shisui's chest rise and fall slowly, his warm breath exhaled into his still-damp hair. Itachi attempted to mimic this action, but only ended up with a harsh cough. "Come on, now. Slow, Itachi."

Itachi nodded slightly, supporting himself with his hands on Shisui's theighs, which were drawn up on either side of him, and inhaled as slowly as his panicking breaths would allow. A few times, it hitched in his chest and caused him to hiccup slightly, but Shisui reassuringly stroked his abdomen, chuckling good-naturedly into his shoulder. Itachi managed a slight sigh of contentment whenever Shisui laid a kiss on his neck, relaxing gradually back into his embrace.

_Seems Itamichi abandoned his Haphephobia for the time being_ Shisui thought, chuckling inwardly. "You okay now, 'Tachi?" he whispered against his ear.

Itachi nodded, leaning his head to the side easily. Shisui got the hint and lay another tender kiss to the boy's jugular, smiling against it. Itachi reached his hand up and, without looking at Shisui, laced his fingers through his unkempt hair and whispered, "Love me."

Shisui kissed his neck once more in return, letting his hands caress the skin of Itachi's bare chest, sighing out with every audiable intake of breath from the amenable teen. Itachi lay his head back onto Shisui's shoulder, kissing his jaw, smiling. A light feeling rose in Itachi's chest and he laughed aloud, a joyous, lighthearted laugh. Shisui glanced down at him, raising an eyebrow. "Whatcha laughin' at, pretty boy?" he smiled against Itachi's forehead, laying a gentle kiss in its wake.

"Don't ever try and strangle me, okay?"

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><p>AN: Did you enjoy? Huh? Didja? Happy Thanksgiving everyone, btw. Mom isn't too happy that I was more thankful for Masashi Kishimoto than I was for my education, because, really, does anyone realize that in anesthesiology, I'm not gonna use Frigginometry (Trig. I hate triangles now.). And, considering I'm not allowed to be an author or face social and familial siberia (Mom made sure I knew that), I don't even need to consider triangles. They're teaching us pointless stuff. That's why I mostly write in the middle of class. Happy Holidays!


	16. Laugh

Hey guys! Remember me? Guardian of the Nakano? Who's totally not dead? Yeah, it's me. With yet another chapter of Heart Shaped Box!

It's been far too long, but I'm back on the story, conveniently in time for school to start back up, so I have an excuse to let my mind drift off with the Nakano in the middle of class!

...Or...y'know...sneak pictures of ShiIta/ItaSasu on my new pocket digital picture frame...

Enjoy!

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><p>"D'you have any other family you know of?" Shisui glanced over at Itachi, who was leaning over his knee, his foot propped up on the coffee table, painting his toenails a brilliant purple.<p>

"Well...I had a great-uncle. Madara. Don't know what happened to him, though," Itachi scraped away stray polish with his thumbnail, already the lustrous shade of violet, shrugging. "Sasuke."

Sasuke looked up from the puzzle he was trying to complete idly, smiling at his older brother. A slight blush crossed his features as his brother recognized him as his only other family.

"And you."

Shisui smiled slightly, sitting up in the armchair and leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "'Tachi, why are you so into painting your nails that color?"

"I dunno. It's weird, but for some reason, I've always wanted red irises and purple nails," Itachi laughed quietly. "Think it was ever that way in a past life?"

"A past life?" Shisui raised his eyebrow, cocking his head to the side slightly. "I dunno about a past life. Your eyes are usually red, anyways."

"I don't mean like that, you idiot," Itachi threw the nearest thing he could find at Shisui; a black throw pillow, embroidered by his mother.

"This has your name on it, 'Tachi," Shisui handed it back. Itachi ran his fingers over the red stitching gently. "Yeah...I miss Mama alot."

"Of course you do, dork. She's your mom. Well, at least your tyrannical father isn't around anymore, y'know?"

"Yeah...Sasuke," he smiled, motioning for his little brother to come over.

Sasuke eagerly jumped to his feet, forgetting the puzzle altogether as he crawled into his older brother's lap.

"Sasuke, how do my nails look?" Itachi wiggled his toes, the purple laquor catching the light brilliantly. "Want me to paint yours?" he playfully swiped the brush across Sasuke's nose, leaving a bright purple streak vertically across the bridge.

"Yeah!" Sasuke wrestled with his socks to remove them, then threw them to the side carelessly, laying his small feet in his older brother's lap, his head against the arm of the sofa. Sasuke held the black embroidered pillow to his chest, giggling childishly every time his Nii-san tickled his feet, painting his toes in the bright shade.

"Sasuke," he chuckled, "Hold _still_, would you? You're squirming too much!"

"S-sorry, Ni-Nii-san! It just tickles too much!"

Shisui smiled, leaning back in the chair, watching the warm scene. _God, Itachi...You're hurting, aren't you?_ He laughed quietly.

"Oh, and what are _you_ laughing at, Shisui?" Itachi looked back, trying once more to restrain the squirming child long enough to add a second coat.

"Nothin' Itamichi. It's nothing..." his voice trailed off.

"Well...oh! There, Sasuke. How's it look? It took much longer, considering you wouldn't sit still, but-"

"But, Nii-san! You made it tickle! It looks so cool! Thank you!"

"Hey, be careful, it's not quite dry yet!"

"Sorry!"

Shisui laughed, relaxing back into the couch once more. He silently thanked whoever was up there in the sky, watching over them now, for this moment of happiness in their lives.

Suddenly, Itachi screamed, dropping the nail polish and seemingly pressing back into the couch. Shisui and Sasuke both jerked up with a start.

"What? What is it?" Shisui jumped up, grabbing Itachi's shoulders, pulling him into an embrace; he was trembling.

Itachi quickly pushed his lover off of him. "Right there! Right there! Don't you see him?" He questioned, pointing straight ahead. Both Sasuke and Shisui looked to see what he was talking about.

"Nii-san..._what_ are you talking about?" Sasuke asked carefully.

Itachi began to hyperventilate slightly, peering over Shisui's shoulder, only to let out a scream once more and hide his face in Shisui's shoulder.

"Father! It's father!"

"Nii-san, father is dead!"

"..." Itachi swallowed hard. Shakily he responded, "I know..."

Somewhere in the recesses of Itachi's mind, he heard, _"Hello, Itachi."_

Itachi screamed again, clutching at his eyes, which began to drip blood steadilym the crimson staining the corners of his eyes, eyelashes gleaming red. He trembled in Shisui's embrace, sobbing and hiccuping sporadically, inconsolable.

"Itachi. Hey, c'mon now. Hey, now, tell me what you saw, okay? What is it?"

"I-I...It's..." he couldn't finish his sentance, because it appeared as if his head was knocked back all of a sudden.

"Itachi!"

"Aniki!"

Shisui pulled Itachi closer, stroking his hair. Sasuke receded into the farthest corner of the couch, pulling his knees to his chest, shaking almost as hard as Itachi was.

"I-I...Is Aniki...p-p-posessed?" he asked shakily.

"What?" Shisui looked over at the trembling child, reaching out a reassuring hand. Sasuke took it hesitantly.

"W-we watched a-a mo-movie li-like this..."

Shisui looked confused for a moment, but smiled, laughing goodnaturedly. "Sasuke, this isn't a movie!" he started, "Itachi...he's just..." Shisui fondly petted Itachi's hair, as if a precious doll, "suffering...guilt, would be the best word," he shrugged, pulling Sasuke into a tight hug against his side, stroking his hair.

"Guilt?"

"Yeah...guilt for...y'know."

Sasuke nodded, then took Itachi's hand, smiling at him unsteadily. "Aniki? It'll be okay..."

Itachi looked down slowly, trembling ceasing for long enough to pull Sasuke into a tight hug, pressing his face into Sasuke's neck, kissing it lightly. Sasuke didn't mind it one bit as Itachi cried into his shoulder, blood staining his navy blue shirt.

In the distance, Fugaku laughed.

* * *

><p>AN: Yeah, that FUDGING Fugaku is back. That happens in stories of mine, considering the fact that I feel like Masashi Kishimoto; I can't let anyone die!

Totally kidding, but, seriously, he's being haunted now. I think I'm trailing a little too close to the original book "Heart Shaped Box", except Itachi didn't buy a cursed suit or sleep with a schizophrenic...

Well...Shisui...but that's another story.

Review or Itachi will cry more blood!

Oh, by the way, I'm really alluding to something you all should understand. Y'know...kinda the reason you're here? If you don't get it, I will personally sick Fugaku's ghost on you guys.

LOVE YOU!


	17. Fever

Okay, serious lemon warning in here, you guys! Yep, they actually go all the way in the chapter!

But this chapter was spanned over a few days, and it doesn't flow as well as I'd like.

A huge, huge, GIANT thanks to my bestest friend, xXxLynnethebrilliantnobodyXx, my best friend since 7th grade for help with the lemon, and really all of my stories! She helps me so much and forces me at gunpoint to keep writing through the writer's block! ...hehe? O.O"

So, yeah, this chapter isn't just a sort of filler, you kind of have to squint a little bit to realize it _is_ pertaining to the storyline.

ENJOY!

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><p>Itachi laced his fingers through Shisui's, the dark of the room unsettling, save for a single black candle that burned languorously, the scent wafting gently to them, calming him slightly. Shisui noticed offhandedly how Itachi's nightshirt seemed too large for him, for the way it draped over and fell off of his shoulder, thin and bony and suddenly strikingly pale. Shisui cautiously traced a hand down Itachi's clothed arm, feeling the muscles twitch beneath the fabric.<p>

"Are you feelin' okay...?" he asked tentatively, almost scared of the true answer.

"Yeah. I'm feeling fine, Shisui."

"...you're sure?"

"Positive," Itachi nodded, but wasn't quite convincing as his breath seemed to catch in his throat every other second.

Shisui shook his head, an uneasy smile gracing his features, a gentle, worried laugh as he leaned in, kissing Itachi gently on the lips. Itachi was still as Shisui pulled away, looking him over with a careful eye, almost paternal. He pulled Itachi's head close watchfully, as if he would scold the boy. Shisui pressed his lips to Itachi's eyelid gently, his hands running through Itachi's hair, pulling him closer and closer. His lips trailed softly down Itachi's defined tear trough, slipping to his neck, burning with fever. Shisui inhaled Itachi's scent, clean and pure, but with the undertone of sickness that was impossible to avoid. A warm, diseased sort of scent that was endearing and saddening at the same time. Melancholy churned in Shisui's chest as he kissed Itachi's painfully precise jugular, hearing the breath catch once more in Itachi's throat, though he wasn't sure if it was from the illness or not. He tentatively nipped at the almost bloodless skin beneath his lips, sucking gently on the burning flesh, his eyes fluttering closed. One hand supported him on the bed, the other stroking the opposite side of Itachi's neck, gently tracing around his ear, playing with the loose strands of his hair. Itachi lifted his head slightly, taking in a little more air in a small huff, as if coming to terms with something. He opened his eyes again with a certain undying confidence, and Shisui began to cry, a tear leaking out of the corner of his eye, his teeth still closed around Itachi's vein, as if holding on; he knew Itachi. He knew this.

Shisui let his hand slip down Itachi's chest slowly, taking in every second, every feeling, every fiber in his shirt, every breath that he took, counting Itachi's cells on his tongue, tasting the disease with anger, with sorrow, with remorse. He lightly fingered the end of Itachi's shirt, the black cotton soft on his fingertips, and slipped his hand underneath. Itachi's skin burned, almost, seeming to vibrate against Shisui's hand with a radiating sort of incalescence, a painful sun flaring beneath his touch. Shisui let his hand travel upwards, caressing the burning flesh as he went,stopping briefly to breathe out a small, choked sob of a breath, then began to stroke Itachi's nipple, listening as his breathing hitched for a breif second and he let out a small sigh, Shisui's name barely ghosting Itachi's lips before evaporating into nothingness.

"Shisui..." he muttered. "Please..." he moaned. "Please..."

Shisui stopped, his breathing paused for a brief moment. His gaze flickered over Itachi's throat, watching as he swallowed slightly. He whispered, "Tell me what you want, Itachi."

He could only respond, "...I want all of you..."

Shisui complied, pushing Itachi to lay down, crawling over the teen with an anxious, wanting glint in his eyes. He kissed Itachi with longing, drawing in a breath as Itachi wrapped his legs around Shisui's waist. Shisui pressed their bodies closer, the crow-haired boy moaning in gratitude as their hips slid together in a single fluid motion, Itachi gripping Shisui's shoulders, thrusting against his hips with want and need. Shisui allowed this for a brief time, even matching his movements every so often, moaning under his breath at Itachi's cries of pleasure. Itachi shuddered as each thrust brought him even closer to the edge, the feeling of 500 volts of electricity shooting up his spine, overpowering his brain, making every nerve explode, every touch, taste, scent, sight, and sound magnified beyond description. His eyes wanted to keep closed, to simply allow the feelings to rush over him, with no complications, no errors, but Itachi couldn't allow it to. Losing yourself in something meant the chance of no return. Prying his eyes open, he locked his gaze with Shisui, above him, lips parted slightly, his messy brown hair framing his face, eyes soft and brown, gaze locked with Itachi's mind. His eyes would flutter shut every so often, his arms tensing, clawing at the sheets slightly, then he would relax again, opening his eyes to watch his lover again. _His _lover. _His _friend.

_His_ life source.

Eyes locked on one another, Itachi gently, impulsively, reached up, his hands cupping Shisui's cheeks, thumbs stroking the light stress lines beneath his eyes lightly. Shisui closed his eyes, sighing softly in content. Shisui moved his hands down to Itachi's lower back, slipping them beneath the hem of Itachi's nightshirt, pulling Itachi to sit up as he encouraged his shirt off, leaving Itachi's skin, looking as if it was as delicate and pallor as white crepe papier, as one would find in a gift bag, used to hide the prize inside; the presents.

Shisui leaned down, laying a kiss to the center of Itachi's chest, trailing his lips upward to his clavicle. The bruises that were once there were now faded, almost as pale as the owner's flesh. Itachi opened his eyes once more, glancing downward to see only the top of Shisui's head, his dark brown hair. Lacing his fingers through the older teen's messy hair, he sighed as Shisui kissed his nipples, nipping at and licking them affectionatly. He descended slowly, kissing all the way, down his abdomen, his navel, slipping Itachi's pajama pants hem down slightly, giving him a good view of Itachi's hip. He laid a small kiss to the bare skin before him, before, without thinking, latching on, biting harshly. Itachi gripped his hair, almost screaming Shisui's name, panting, helplessly figiting beneath him.

_"Harder..." _Itachi groaned. _"Harder..please..."_

Shisui glanced up at Itachi, not releasing his grip, but tightening it. Itachi's hot blood spilled into his mouth. Shisui's eyes practically rolled into the back of his head in pleasure, licking up the blood and swallowing it down gratefully. Itachi groaned loudly, reaching down and tugging at Shisui's shirt with want. Shisui crawled back over the teen, going to kiss him when, suddenly, Itachi stopped him.

"Hurt me!"

He stopped, staring, confused. "...what?"

"Hurt me! Please?"

Shisui raised an eyebrow, but sighed quietly, kissing the younger's eye. "Itamichi...I don't wanna hurt you."

"Shisui! Please!" Itachi pulled his lover's head down to his neck, tilting his head upwards to allow easier access to the vein.

"Itachi!" he yelled, pulling his head back, anger raging in his eyes. Itachi froze, struck by fear, paralyzed. His hands remained suspended in mid-air, it seemed, eyes wide, a deer in headlights. "I'm not going to hurt you, so stop! I'm not your bastard of a father, do you understand?"

Almost brokenly, he looked at Shisui, fear omnipresent in his eyes. Was that a tear Shisui saw fall from the corner of Itachi's eye? Itachi looked away, closing his eyes, shame crippling his ability to speak. Shisui took his hand, tracing his lips along Itachi's knuckles lovingly.

"I'll touch you as much as you want," he muttered, "but I will never intentionally hurt you." His eyes narrowed, swallowing audiably. He whispered, "I won't..."

Shisui leaned down, kissing the younger teen, the feel of his lips, tasting his passion, his want, his need. The kiss became heated, feverent. Itachi's moved his hands to Shisui's pants, trying with trembling hands to unbutton them. He wanted all of Shisui. Now. Pulling away from the kiss, Shisui licked his lips to break the strand of saliva that connected them. He kissed his lover once more before moving to his chest, his touches and kisses more passionate than before; than ever. He moved down to the hem of Itachi's pants once more, sliding them off of his hips. Shisui could practically feel Itachi, how he trembled inside, his body screaming for Shisui's ministrations.

Itachi whispered hoarsely, "Shisui..."

Itachi's voice caressed Shisui's ears like a delicate, passing wind, his hands trembling as he slowly slipped off Itachi's boxers. He didn't mean to torture poor Itachi, he honestly didn't. He wanted this just as much as the other did, but he didn't want to let go after. He knew, somewhere, screaming in the back of his mind, he knew that he didn't have much time left with him, didn't-

_No,_ he thought. _Not now, not in front of Itachi._

Glancing at Itachi seductively, he showed something between a confident smirk and a reassuring smile. Tracing his fingers up Itachi's erection slowly, hearing Itachi mewl and writhe beneath him, he lay a small kiss to the base, listening to Itachi groan his approval.

"Don't tease me..." he muttered, lacing his fingers with Shisui's.

Pushing himself up, the brunette leaned into his ear. "You don't know _what_ I wanna do to you, Itamichi..."

Itachi moaned quietly, running his hands over the exposed skin of Shisui's abdomen as he pulled his shirt off. Shisui began to stroke Itachi's erect member slowly, teasingly, pumping it steadily. Itachi began matching each stroke, thrusting against his hand. Shisui laughed quietly, holding down Itachi's hips, earning a frustrated growl from the crow-haired teen. He began to thumb the slit, prodding it, watching precum leak down Itachi's erection. Shisui smiled slightly, leaning down and licking it away. Laying his head back into the pillow, Itachi sighed, his erection throbbing with want. He felt Shisui run his thumb across his bottom lip, parting his lips slightly, allowing Shisui to slip two fingers into his mouth. He lathered them well with his saliva before Shisui pulled them out, sighing out once he felt one of Shisui's fingers at his entrance. He shifted slightly, spreading his legs to allow easier access, his toes curling into the sheets.

"Ah-!" he gasped as the first finger slipped in with relative ease. Shisui thrusted his finger a few times before removing it, adding the second, leaning down and kissing Itachi gently. He felt cold, trembling fingers close around his biceps, feeling Itachi's lips move against his, hearing him whisper softly, _"Now, Shisui..."_

Shisui opened his eyes to see Itachi gazing at him, his once black eyes now a dull, deep grey. He leaned down to kiss the younger teen, removing his fingers. Itachi's hands slipped up to wrap around Shisui's neck, running his fingers through Shisui's hair, no hesitation, but inhibition, uncertainty in his eyes. Biting his lip, Itachi's gaze flickered down to Shisui's clavicles, tracing up to his throat, wanting to avoid his gaze.

Shisui moved towards the drawer for lube, but Itachi tightened his grip on him. He only shook his head no when Shisui gave him a questioning look.

"Itachi," he began.

"No."

Itachi flushed slightly, making him look more alive than before, the red contrasting with the pale of his face. His gaze flickered from Shisui's worried look to the bedside table, once more avoiding eye contact. "You. Nothing but you..."

Shisui cocked an eyebrow, a small smile crossing his features. He leaned down, kissing the younger beneath him. "You know it'll-"

"It wouldn't be the same," Itachi deadpanned.

Shisui laughed quietly. "You're sure?"

Itachi blinked twice, pulling Shisui closer. His hand skimmed over the warm, smooth skin of Shisui's back, tracing it down his bare theigh, silently admiring the beautiful, seemingly glowing flesh, then across his abdomen, lightly brushing the skin with his fingertips, making Shisui groan under his breath with want. Itachi muttered, "I'm sure..."

Shisui smirked. "Look, just 'cause you don't wanna use lube doesn't make you seme, 'tachi."

Itachi gave him a mischevious glance, smirking slightly, cocking an eyebrow. Shisui rolled his eyes, kissing him once more before encouraging Itachi's legs to wrap around his waist, pushing into him slowly. Itachi's eyes flew open, his heart skipping a beat before squeezing them shut, digging his nails into the other's shoulderblades, groaning his name loudly. He pushed himself closer, trying desperatly to take all of Shisui into him.

Shisui held himself back despite his lover's persistance, moaning at the heat, now fully sheathed in Itachi. Slowly he moved, shoulders, biceps, forearms, hands, heart, every muscle trembling in impossible, almost unattainable bliss as he felt Itachi's desperate, clenching heat, his voice ringing in Shisui's ears, how he cried out his name, his nails digging into Shisui's flesh, leaving beautiful cresent-shaped welts along his back, the brush of skin against skin. It was almost too much. Shisui began to thrust harder into his lover, hitting his prostate. Itachi screamed Shisui's name, his back arching, pressing closer to Shisui. Shisui thrusted harder into his young lover, hitting his prostate once more. The crow-haired teen pulled himself up closer to Shisui, hands slick with sweat, gripping desperately to his lover's biceps, matching each thrust, crying out his name. Shisui opened his eyes to see Itachi's face, his eyebrows pulled together, panting heavily, eyes squeezed shut. His forehead gleamed with sweat, hair sticking to his face and neck. Shisui affectionatly released Itachi's hair from it's hairtie, watching it spill behind him elegantly. He gave another rough thrust just to see Itachi's eyelids flutter, to see his throat contract as he swallowed, to see how his deepening tear troughs seemed to disappear for a moment, how the stress disappeared, how his skin seemed so much more alive. Shisui went faster, taking in every pant and moan from the younger beneath him. A painful nostalgia seemed to wash over him.

How they had fallen in love. Itachi's broken psyche, Shisui's desire to fix him. If Itachi died, Shisui would be the one who needed fixing. He couldn't stand this. He couldn't lose Itachi, not now. Not ever. He would die first. He didn't want this to be over. Not yet. Not because of Fugaku...

Not yet.

Shisui pressed them both into the matress, his body trembling slightly. He clutched himself to Itachi, hiding his face in the younger's shoulders. He halted his thrusting, his entire body wracking with sobs.

Itachi panted, laying his hand gently on Shisui's shoulder, whispering to him, "Shi-Shisui...? What's...the matter?"

"N-...nothing, Itachi," he stroked his hair, sniffling, "I just..." he stopped, "I'm sorry...I don't want to let you go..." his voice trembled, "I don't wanna lose you..."

Itachi smiled slightly, a small chuckle escaping his lips, "You aren't going to lose me, you idiot...I'm right here, see?" Itachi leaned up, kissing him gently.

Shisui laughed quietly, despite himself, wiping his tears away with the heel of his hand. "I know, Itamichi...I know..."

He kissed the younger teen once more, feeling the heat spark back up within them.

_Why worry now? _he reasoned with himself silently. _Cherish the moments..._

They shifted slightly, Shisui making sure he fully had Itachi, even this one last time. He began thrusting once more, Itachi wrapping his legs around Shisui's waist again, pushing him in deeper. He sighed out Shisui's name, leaning up and kissing him.

Passion and heat began to rise between them. Shisui thrusted harder and faster upon command from his young lover, hitting his sweet spot every so often, each time bringing Itachi even closer to the edge. Itachi clenched and thrusted against his Seme, trying desperately to drag him over the edge with him. Shisui groaned, both of them so, _so _close, when...

_"Itachi, open your eyes..."_

Itachi shook his head, continuing to move against Shisui.

_"Itachi, open your eyes,"_ Shisui shifted to support himself on his elbows, cupping Itachi's cheeks with his hands, slick once more with sweat.

Itachi's eyes flickered open, their gazes catching, eyes locked on the other as Shisui hit Itachi's prostate a final time before he cried Shisui's name loudly, the world seeming to melt around them. Itachi clenched around Shisui, dragging him over the edge with him, cumming onto both of their chests, electricity seeming to shoot through them at the same time. Shisui rode out his orgasm inside of Itachi, prolonging it as long as he could by hitting Itachi's prostate every-so-often, just to keep the world from returning to cloud their thoughts, the harsh reality of it all. Shisui's gaze flickered over Itachi's face as he slowed his thrusts, collapsing beside his Itamichi. He pressed his forehead to Itachi's, feeling the burning cold, the heat radiating from his feverish body, but too exhausted, seemingly sapped of all energy, to think of it, to even speak. Closing his eyes, he turned them over so they both lay on their sides, their legs entwining, pulling Itachi close. Shisui pulled the covers up over both of them weakly, falling asleep.

* * *

><p>AN: I hope you enjoyed! Remember, GuardianoftheNakano LOVES reviews!

I mean...a lot.

I really, really love reviews.

And I _will _kill Sasuke if you don't give me some.

Sasuke: ...'Tachi...?


	18. Poe

Hey Guys! It's me, and I'm back for a very limited amount of time.

Long story short: My brother went to WWE wrestling Raw last night and he was far too tired to go to school, so I'm watching him today. So UPDATE!  
>You guys are gonna hate me for what happens in this chapter, but it popped into my head and began to flow.<p>

So...yeah! Enjoy!

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><p>Itachi woke with a sharp pain in his lower back and something warm and steady beneath his head. Rising steadily, falling steadly, like the warm ocean waves crashing over him, the steady thrum of something rising from the depths, something warm and alive and comforting and Itachi irrationally wanted it and didn't think as he pressed his hand against the warm barrier that kept that precious thing from reaching him and he wanteditwanteditwantedit and he pressed his nails into the suddenly solid oceanic water and dug and suddenly the oceanic water wasn't water but blood and hot on his hands and he began to thrash but something echoed over the red-blue horizon and he tried to ignore it because he wanteditwanteditwantedit whatever it was but some great creature reached up from the depths and grabbed and restrained him and he suddenly saw what was warm and beathing but it was cold and silver and it was the heart shaped box and he was it finally as he was dragged into the depths and woke up.<p>

"Itachi? Itachi?"

"Hn...what...whatzit...it, Shisui?" he groaned, dazed, his head still swimming as he ran his hand over his face tiredly.

"Well, for one thing, you tried to claw my heart out, babe," he chuckled, leaning in to kiss Itachi, running a thumb along Itachi's closed eye. When Shisui pulled away, he noticed there was blood staining his skin.

"C'mon," Shisui smiled, sitting up, throwing his bare legs over the side of the bed, a beautiful sight to Itachi's sore eyes as his half-lidded gaze flickered over them. Shisui glanced over his shoulder at the still-stationary weasel. "Let's go shower."

Itachi continued to stare at him from beneath the duvet, which, at this time, was extremely warm and far more inviting than getting up to start the day. Shisui laughed aloud at Itachi's innocent look, flashing him a smile that made Itachi's heart melt in his chest.

"Am I really gonna have to carry you?" Shisui teased.

A flash of inspiration crossed Itachi's mind.

He nodded, holding his arms out to Shisui childishly. Shisui's smile widened incrimentally, threatening to split his face in half as he leaned down to pick Itachi up with enthusiasm he didn't even try to hide, holding him bridal-style as he kissed him. Shisui's heart fluttered in his chest as Itachi let his head rest against Shisui's clavicle, the stab wound from what seemed to be forever ago only a pink reminder, his pale skin illuminated by the sun filtering through the window, his fever a little lower than last night. Relief swelled Shisui's chest, expanding with an alleviated sigh as he starteed the shower, steam billowing in the air and caressing their skin, the mirror fogged a milky white until Itachi couldn't see it, his own reflection a dark shadow seeming to loom over his head. They stepped beneath the hot spray, their skin itching and prickling from the heat in a soothing way. Shisui ran his fingers through Itachi's hair, thinner and duller than just a week ago. When Shisui pulled his hand away, he noticed a few strands had come loose and now hung over his fingers like tiny bad forced himself to meet Shisui's gaze, breathing out the words, "I'm a lost cause," dignifying his oncoming death with an almost-reverence, dignifying how Shisui forced him to take multivitamins every day, bought him special shampoo to restore his hair, made him eat more in a vain attempt to keep him alive, to restore Itachi to what he once was, a beautiful, almost ethereal creature that should've been impossible, instead of the shell he was now; the attempt was a red carpet layed out for disaster.

Something clicked in Itachi's head when he really looked into Shisui's eyes. There was a burning, angry passion, stone-cold determination, as if Itachi _wasn't_ dying, that this would pass as all his other illnesses had, that all would be well. For a split second, Itachi thought Shisui really didn't believe that he was dying, that he wouldn't. And, for half a second, Itachi did, too.

And Itachi could only nod, because he understood.

When they finally made it downstairs, Sasuke was already up and dressed, his legs swinging playfully over the side of the couch, a bowl of cereal in his lap and Ichabod curled up by his side.

"Hey, Sasuke. Where's Poe at?" Itachi asked, leaning down to scratch the top of Ichabod's head.

"I dunno," Sasuke shrugged, mumbling through a mouthful of milky flakes, swallowing. "I haven't seen her."

"That's odd...usually she doesn't leave Ichabod's side," Itachi frowned, continuing into the kitchen.

Shisui went to the medicine cabinet, taking out a bottle and handing Itachi two multivitamins, smiling as he took them without complaint. He went to the refrigerator and bluued out some bacon and eggs.

"We gotta go to the store today," he muttered as he closed the fridge door and grabbed a skillet from beneath the counter.

"We'll go later," Itachi replied, grabbing the bag of cat food from the pantry, shaking it and clicking his tongue.

"Ichabod? Poe?" he called.

Ichabod ambled in alone, yawning tiredly. Itachi furrowed his eyebrows, looking around. "Poe? Poe? Where are you?"

"I'm sure she's just outside, killing a nice fat squirrel to show you how much she loves you."

"Yeah," Itachi agreed quietly, "I just hope she doesn't leave it in my bed like last time," he shuddered.

Shisui laughed, turning his attention to the food sizzling on the stove. "Hey, Sicky, grab me the mozzarella?"

"Yeah, sure thing, Mutt," he returned, grabbing the bag of shredded cheese and a tomato from the fridge, slicing it and dropping two thin slices onto the skillet.

"Hey, hey, hey! What are you doing?"

"Frying two tomatoes for Sasuke," Itachi glared slightly.

"Keep your nasty veggies away from the meat," Shisui chided, pushing the tomatoes away with the spatula to the corner of the skillet.

"Fruit, moron," Itachi rolled his eyes, muttering, _"So immature."_

After breakfast, Itachi grabbed his wallet as Shisui grabbed his keys from the hook.

"Sasuke, c'mon, we're going to the store."

"Ooh, Nii-san! Can I get candy?"

"Sure," he smiled. "C'mon."

*LINEBREAK*

Putting away the groceries upon their return, Shisui nudged Sasuke and smirked, "Black Ops? Whoever wins gets the last Twizzler."

Sasuke nodded enthusiastically, "You're on!"

"You two are such children," Itachi falseheartedly reprimanded, unable to hide the small smile that snuck across his lips, letting his hair fall to cover it. He finished putting the groceries away and made his way upstairs.

"'Tachi's always saying I'm just a child," Sasuke admitted as Shisui selected his class.

"He means well, squirt," Shisui assured, "A lot's been goin' on lately, y'know? He doesn't want you to grow up too fast, too."

"'Too?' What do you mean? No, I want Ninja pro," he added.

"Fine. Well, Itachi-"

"Oh my God!" They heard from upstairs.

Shisui tossed the Dualshock onto the sofa and made his way upstairs, laughing a little bit, Sasuke at his heels.

"What was it, 'Tachi, another squi-...Oh my God."

"What? What?" Sasuke squeezed between Shisui and Itachi, feeling his little heart sink in his chest.

Itachi ran into his room and picked up Poe, allowing her blood to stain his shirt, whimpering, "Poe...Oh God, Poe..."

He looked down at his shoulder, then to Poe's side, where a stab wound lay, identical, and obviously by the same knife.

"Shit..." Shisui pulled Sasuke to look away, holding him in a tight hig against his side.

Itachi weakly kissed the top of Poe's head, scratching her fur as he held her. He whispered hoarsly, "I'm so sorry, Poe."

Poe started to purr, her side moving up and down with weak exertion. Sasuke cried lightly into Shisu's side, his tiny hands curling and tugging at Shisui's shirt hem as Shisui stroked his hair, not daring to look back to his brother.

Itachi began to cry only after Poe stopped purring, nuzzling into her soft fur that smelled of wet morning dew and febreeze and that indistinct scent that always seemed to surround a cat's fur.

*Linebreak*

"Nii-san...?" Sasuke muttered after Shisui had shoveled in the last of the dirt over Poe among the peonies in Mikoto's garden.

"Yes, Sasuke?" Itachi responded numbly, dazed with death's foggy cloud enveloping him, emotionally dizzy and fixated on the spot where his cat now lay, watchign as Ichabod curled up on the dirt pile and hummed a soft consent of loss. Sasuke leaned against Itachi's side weakly, holding onto his older brother's hand.

He mumbled, "I wish I would've given her my ice cream."

* * *

><p>AN: I'm so sorry, 'Tachi!

Please review, it'll make 'Tachi feel better! T_T


	19. Always

Itachi curled up closer to his steadily humming cat, his black fur reassuring in the dim yellow light filtering through the pale white lampshade. "What are we gonna do without her, Icky?" Itachi mumbled listlessly, gently stroking Ichabod's side as it raised and fell. Shisui had cleaned the blood from Itachi's floor only after Itachi had painted her name on his wall with gentle, trembling fingers, then, turning to Shisui, took his bloodstained finger and traced it down his eye in a mockery of tears. Shisui almost said something, until Itachi flashed him the most brilliant, the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. He could only smile and nod back, leaning down to wipe away the evidence of pain.

Leaning in gently, Itachi pressed his lips to Ichabod's forehead, smiling lightly as he closed his eyes against the contact, looking incredibally pleased with himself as his tail flickered lightly. His dark yellow eyes held signifigant sadness and acceptance at the loss of his friend. Itachi nodded. "I miss her, too."

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><p><em>"Shh! You'll ruin it!"<em> Mikoto hissed at the bag she was carrying, metallic silver and gaudily covered in tacky-colored 2-dimensional presents, filled with something that apparently wouldn't quit moving. Itachi was painfully oblivious, however, as he sat on the ground of the den, quietly reading a book of Edgar Allen Poe's works.

"Oh, Itaaachi~!" She sang, grunting lightly at the end of the sentence as she growled something at the bag.

"Yes, ma'am?" He asked quietly, watching his mother fight with the bag that was now mewling discontently, shifting even more frequently, it seemed. Itachi was sure he was imagining things.

"Well...it _is_ your 9th birthday, so I-_stoppit!_-I figured you were responsible enough for-_dammit, you two!_-either way, I thought you would like-oh, nevermind!"

Mikoto promptly ripped the bag open, leaving two small bundles of fur tumbling down onto the carpet. Mewling and rolling about, they finally found their footing, their paws far too large for their tiny forms, their wide yellow eyes fixating on Itachi as they ambled over to him clumbsily. Mikoto watched her son, an apperance of shock and perturbation on his face as the cats made their way to him easily, disrupting his usually silent air in an instant. One of the meowing fuzzballs had made its way into his lap, the other hopping lightly against his leg, the two front paws kneading steadily into his black knee shorts.

"Do you like them, Itachi?" Mikoto asked sweetly, kneeling down beside her son and scratching the one in his lap gently, motherly.

Itachi could only nod, his mouth gone silent. She smiled, kissing his cheek. "What are their names?"

"I...I name them?"

Mikoto nodded. "Boy and girl. You pick, they're yours."

Itachi looked down to the one purring heavily at his mother's touch, muttering, "Edgar."

"I...think that's the girl," Mikoto mumbled hesitantly.

"Poe."

"Poe! Oh, it's pretty, Itachi. Poe. And then for the boy?"

Black and curled up into a ball, Itachi couldn't tell his head from his back. He blinked twice.

"Ichabod."

"Oh, that's clever, 'tachi." Mikoto kissed her son again, sweetly. "Happy birthday, Itachi. I love you."

"I love you too, Mama..." Itachi whispered as Mikoto left.

Itachi delicately began to pet them, leaning in close and whispering, "I'm sorry. I'm not very good at making friends. I don't really know how to make friends, either. So, I'm sorry, I'm weird, and awkward...and not really all that good at this. I do love you though. You don't have to love me. I love you, though."

Itachi weakly kissed the top of Poe's head, scratching her fur as he held her. He whispered sadly, "I'm not a good person. I'm so sorry, Poe."

Poe began to purr.

Feeling the bed shift beneath him, Itachi turned his head to see Shisui slip into bed beside him. He figured he had let himself in with the key Itachi had given him last week. He felt comforted by Shisui's presence, the empty void where Poe should've been filled instantly by Shisui's caring aura. Itachi turned over to welcome him in, Ichabod laying between them, reveling in the attention from the teens. Shisui looked a little bit weary, and Itachi instantly asked the matter.

"Kinda fought with my parents. Said I'm spending too much time over here. Questions got awkward. I got a little angry..." he muttered, "Mama started questioning my sexuality. She doesn't know about us. She suspects something, though."

"But neither of us are gay."

"I know. But she don't understand that."

Itachi reached out gently, his hand cupping Shisui's cheek. "What happened?"

"I called her a bitch and said as soon as I'm eighteen, I'm outta there, and she didn't know anything about me. I told her she needed to piss off and that I wasn't a perfect son, but she could deal with it."

"But...she's your mother."

"She was talking about you, too. Saying you're a bad influence. You're insane."

"Family before friends, Shisui."

Shisui snorted in laughter quietly, brushing a strand of Itachi's deep brown hair behind his ear. "Have you forgotten you're my cousin, Itamichi?"

Itachi only gave him a vague smile and leaned in to kiss him.

* * *

><p>"Nii-san?" he heard in the middle of the night, hazy with sleep, and sat up, pulling the sheets over his bare lap.<p>

"What is it, Sasuke?"

"I...um...Nii-san, Dad..."

Itachi waited for a moment before speaking, hearing no response. "What about Father?"

"He...h-he..." Itachi heard the child break down into tears suddenly, hearing something hit the floor. Itachi grabbed a sheet and wrapped it around his waist, rushing over to the child crying on his knees.

"Sasuke, what happened? Did he hurt you?"

"He-he...he!"

"What is it, Sasuke? Is there something you need to tell me?"

"He was standing over my bed with a knife, Nii-san!" Sasuke shrilled, burying his face in his hands and sobbing. "I-I-I...I thought he was going to kill me!"

Itachi brought the boy into his embrace. "It's okay, now, Sasuke. It's fine. I'm here. C'mon, you can sleep with us."

Sasuke clung to his older brother desperatley, Itachi silently wishing he was strong enough to carry his sibling to comfort. "Shisui, move over."

Shisui stirred, looking up tiredly, then scooting over, feeling around for his pajama pants and pulling them on sleepily, letting Sasuke curl up beside him. Itachi layed down behind his little brother, wrapping his arms delicately around Sasuke's trembling form, kissing the nape of his neck. Shisui kissed him on the forehead, finishing the chain with his arm around Sasuke's waist, letting the child curl into him.

"Nii-san, don't let him kill me..." Sasuke pleaded quietly.

"Never, Sasuke. Never."

"We've got you, Sasuke. Go to sleep, alright?" Shisui mumbled, stroking the young raven's hair.

"Nothing will happen to you, little brother. We'll be here always."

"Always," Shisui agreed.

Sasuke nodded, twitching lightly and smiling, curling up beneath the covers, the warmth of his family surrounding him. Suddenly, Ichabod wormed himself into Sasuke's hold, letting the boy hug him close.

He yawned quietly. "Always..."

* * *

><p>After Sasuke fell asleep, Itachi held Shisui's hand, mumbling only, "Move in with us."<p>

Shisui nodded, lacing his fingers with Itachi's.

* * *

><p>His hands laced around a mug of hot chocolate, Itachi quietly glanced to Shisui, a look of accusation in his eyes. "Do you believe me now?"<p>

"Whaddaya mean?" Shisui returned, his glass of orange juice dripping condensation onto the wooden table as he set it down.

"Father is here. He's after me, I think. He wants me to pay for what I did. Sasuke saw him. I saw him."

"'tachi," Shisui began.

"No. You know it."

"Why would he try and kill Sasuke, though?"

Itachi stopped, thinking for a moment. "But he didn't try. He only scared him. And he knew that when Sasuke was scared at night, he came to my room. Maybe it was a warning of what's to come?"

Shisui snorted into his orange juice, laughter wracking his body slightly. Itachi looked perturbed at his disbelief.

"You and your wild imagination, Itamichi," Shisui grinned, despite the fear that had welled in his chest.

Glaring slightly, Itachi suddenly stood, pulling his shirt sleeve down until his shoulder was bare, a long, diagonal scar marring the skin there. "Recognize it?"

"I..." Shisui stopped. "Oh, fuck."

"Yeah. Same as it was on Poe."

"Goddammit, 'tachi. What the fuck do we do? Exorcism? Purify the house?"

"I don't know. For now, we'll just try and keep eachother safe."

"You and Sasuke safe."

Itachi nodded slightly, understanding what Shisui's gaze said.

_ I can take care of myself. _

Shisui suddenly smiled, handing Itachi a bottle. "It's time for your vitamins."

Itachi shook his head, knowing it wouldn't do any good, but swallowed two, if only for Shisui's peace of mind, smiling.

_I won't go anywhere,_ Itachi thought. _You'll be here with me and Sasuke...I'll be here with you and Sasuke always._

_Always. I promise._

* * *

><p><em>AN: It's been forever since I've posted, hasn't it? I hope you all enjoy!_


	20. Fugaku

**Twenty chapters? Jesus Christ, I write too much. Long chapter. Thank you guys so much,**

**without you this isn't possible! I love you all. It means so much how diligently some of you read this excuse for a fanfiction.**

**You guys all keep me going~This is for you all~**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Sleep hazed his thoughts, painfully stifled gasps for breath clouding the air as his blurred vision faded. Pain seemed to bind him, starting from his curling toes, restrained by a heavy weight that he couldn't decipher, shooting up his spine to his aching head, his eyes feeling as if blood was leaking from them in a mockery of tears. He tried to scream, but something akin to a tentacle seemed to shove its way down his throat, making him gag with the wretched taste of bitter rice wine and cigarettes and unbridled anger. Something that sounded like feral growls reached his ears and ached as they reverberated off of his eardrums deep in his head, feeling the fluid in his conchlea ravage his balance like a tsunami. He wanted to scream, to kick this weight off of him, something. A heated ache filled his lower body, nausea swishing in his stomach as he thrashed, wishing desperatly to disappear, at the moment to die, in the long run to escape this painful fate that he couldn't quite make sense of. What was happening? Where was he? It didn't matter. Did it? No. Maybe. No.<p>

No.

No!

-O-

"No!" Itachi screeched, shooting up in bed, clawing at his eyes and thrashing around, trying to escape the restrictive cloth surrounding him. Freeing himself from the binding, he was met with severe disappointment as he felt hands on his biceps. "Not again!" he yelled, pleading desperatly, "Please, not again!"

"Itachi, wake up!" Shisui yelled, shaking the fragile teen slightly, his bloodless skin sweating profusely, his lips chewed raw and red, a painful contrast to the ghost of his flesh. "Wake. Up!"

With a start, Itachi's eyes shot open, pupils shrunken and trembling as blood dripped out of the corner of his eye. Shisui sighed in relief, pulling the crow-haired teen close to him, kissing his temple and whispering, "Shh, shh...It's okay. You're okay now, Itachi. I'm here. Right here..."

Itachi whimpered slightly, whining, "Don't let him touch me...!"

"Never. Never again."

Itachi nodded, allowing himself to be held at arm's length as he was examined carefully by his troubled lover, closing his eyes as the blood was wiped away from beneath his eye. Shisui pressed his hand to Itachi's burning forehead, feeling the fever hadn't decided to let up even with heavy doses of aspirin and all the sleep he could handle. Biting his lip, Shisui tried to think of something else to alleviate Itachi's burning fever.

"Lay down, Itachi. I'll-" Shisui had lain his friend down, yet his grip remained tight on his wrist. "I'll be right back, babe. I'm gonna get a cold washcloth for your forehead. I'll be right back."

Shisui leaned down and kissed his shaking lover's burning forehead, whispering his affections before leaving the room. The hallway was surprisingly warm for the nighttime, and there was an eerie silence surrounding the schizophrenic teen as he walked. Reaching the bathroom, he reached for the doorknob when something darted behind him. He turned quickly, pressing his back to the wall, leaving no openings in the (unlikely) case of an attack. Glancing either way, the hallway seemed clear enough, and he sighed, shaking his head. _All this paranormal stuff is gettin' to my head, _he decided, grabbing the doorknob once again.

"GODDAMMIT!" Shisui screamed, falling back from the door, his back landing against the opposite wall, feeling his head snap back, cracking against the plaster, feeling himself begin to waver from consciousness. Shaking away the painful haze, Shisui slowly lifted his hand, finding that he had slipped to the ground. The palm of his hand was burned painfully, white blisters beginning to form on the wounded skin. He shook his head, standing again, holding his head carefully. Glancing around once more, he yelled warningly, "Fuck off, Fugaku, you can't hurt me."

Folding up the corner of his shirt around his good hand, he opened the bathroom door, grabbing salve from the medicine cabinet, rubbing it lightly on his hand, wrapping it up with an ace bandace and sighing. "Damn...does hurt, though."

Shisui grabbed a hand towel and dampened it with cold water, filling a small basin with it as well, then placed it to the side, closing the medicine cabinet. He jumped when the mirror revealed he wasn't the only one in the bathroom. Glaring slightly, he muttered, "The fuck do you want?"

Fugaku smiled cryptically, a cruel glint in his black eyes.

"Haven't hurt them enough yet? Unfinished buisness?"

The same smile remained on his features, though an excited sparkle entered his eye at the mention, like a child with a new toy.

Shisui inhaled a deep breath, turning around to face the tyrannous father. "Fuck. You. Leave Itachi alone. I'm warning you. I don't know what the fuck I'll do to you yet, but you better believe you'll wish you'd moved on like a sensible ass hole. You're lucky I can't touch you yet, but the day I can find something, believe me, I'll fucking _destroy_ you."

"Hn," was his only reply, his grin widening incrimentally as he faded away into a faint smoke, whisping into translucent streaks of nothingness.

Shisui collected himself, not denying he was a bit shaken, and returned to Itachi's room with the basin.

"I'm back, love," he smiled, placing the basin down on the side table, squeezing out the excess water and placing the towel across Itachi's forehead, heart breaking at the sight of his smile.

Itachi croaked, "Your hand..."

Shisui only smiled, shaking his head. "It's nothing. Go back to sleep. I won't let him get you, Itachi. You'll be fine."

Itachi whispered a faint, "Thank you..." his eyelids fluttering closed.

-O-

"Good morning, Nii-san!" Sasuke called happily as Itachi slowly descended the stairs, a blanket pulled around his slumped shoulders, though, noticing Sasuke's smile, returned it, instantly straightening up.

"Good morning, Sasuke. How did you sleep?"

"Just fine, actually. Dad didn't even bother me! And Ichabod kept me company anyways," he chimed, petting the purring cat beside him.

"I'm glad," Itachi ruffled Sasuke's hair, continuing to the kitchen where Shisui stood at the stovetop, scrambling the eggs in a pan. Itachi smiled a little bit, walking up behind the older teen and pushing close to his back, smiling contently as he whispered, "Good morning, Shisui-san..." giggling slightly as he pressed his face into the soft, sweet-smelling fabric of Shisui's navy-blue tee.

Shisui stopped for a moment before smiling, placing the spatula down beside the stovetop and turning, pulling Itachi into his arms and kissing the top of his head. "I'll assume you're feeling better, love?" Shisui smiled, hugging him close. Itachi gripped Shisui's shirt and kissed his neck.

"Navy blue is my favorite color on you..." he smiled mischeviously, standing up on the balls of his feet and kissing Shisui's jaw. "You're really cute."

Shisui rolled his eyes, "What's with the flirting, Itamichi?"

"I'm just happy. I don't know. I think things will get better from now on. Everything is different. Brighter."

Shisui stopped for a moment, noticing the color that had returned to Itachi's skin, the smile caressing his lips, the glint in his eyes. His hair was shiny and healthy, pulled into a loose ponytail at the nape of his neck, and he practically glowed with health. With a sudden laugh, he picked the younger teen up, spinning him around in a tight hug, smiling.

"Woah! What are you doing?" Itachi asked, exhasperated, yet grinning.

"I knew it! I knew you'd get better!"

Itachi smiled lightly, holding the blanket tighter around his shoulders as he blushed, a healthy pinkish glow spreading across his nose, adverting his gaze.

"You're glowing Itachi. Radiant," He added, kissing the corner of his mouth, heart considerably lightened. "Beautiful. God, you're so beautiful!" He laughed, hugging Itachi tightly again, swaying back and forth with the long-haired teen in his arms.

They were snapped out of their moment when the fire alarm went off. Shisui released his love, turning to the burnt eggs.

"Oh..." Itachi muttered, concerned. "Sorry about that."

"No matter," Shisui smiled. "Let's go out for breakfast."

Itachi suddenly smiled, a tiny, reassured one, nodding. "Okay. I'll go get Sasuke."

"Wait!"

Itachi stopped, looking over his shoulder. He sighed slightly when he saw a bottle in Shisui's hand.

"Vitamins, Itamichi."

Itachi smiled.

-O-

"I can't believe you caught that cherry tomato in your mouth!" Sasuke laughed. "The people were all like, 'what?'" Sasuke made a cross-eyed face, grinning.

"Just one of my many talents, squirt!" Shisui laughed, ruffling Sasuke's hair.

Pretending to pout, Sasuke straightened his hair, yet couldn't hide an excited smile. "Will you show me how to do that, too, Shisui-nii-san?" He asked with an elated grin on his face.

Shisui paused slightly. "You called me nii-...anytime, squirt! Just say the word. Remind me to get some cherry tomatoes next time we go to the store, 'kay?" he smiled.

"Okay!"

Itachi held onto Shisui's arm as they walked, his head resting against Shisui's shoulder, smiling contently.

"Nii-san?"

"Yes, Sasuke?"

"Do you love Shisui-nii? Like...love?"

Itachi stopped, looking up at Shisui questioningly. Shisui nodded, "We should tell him."

The crow-haired teen smiled. "Yes, Sasuke. We love eachother. In love."

"Aha! I knew it!" Sasuke laughed. "You two are bad at hiding it! You smile at Shisui-nii the way that Mama smiled at Dad when he wasn't looking!"

Itachi looked down at Sasuke, almost ready to ask what he ment, when Shisui noticably stiffened, and he looked up.

A curly-haired woman was walking beside a tall brunette man, both painfully familiar.

Itachi gripped to Shisui's arm closer, Sasuke crossing him arms suddenly.

"Oh..." the woman spoke. "Hello, Shisu."

"Don't call me that," he said stiffly, glaring at his parents.

"Shisui, this is rediculous," his father spoke. "Moving out? Because of a comment?"

"It wasn't a comment! It was some off-handed gesture you fuckin' homophobes decided to say to piss me off! I don't care if you think I'm a faggot, okay? I'm eighteen, anyways, and ya'll have no right to try and control me!" Itachi noticed Shisui's accent had emerged worriedly, "Look at this!" Shisui grabbed at Itachi's left hand, holding it up to display the purple sapphire ring Shisui had given him last Halloween, Itachi blushing furiously at the shameless display of their love. "This means I'm gonna marry 'tachi and this means ya'll can't say a damn thing to change my mind. I love him. I've put up with your 'perfect' image of me, thinkin' I'm always gonna put up with it! Kept my life a secret! Not anymore! I'm in charge of my own life now. I'm gonna live my life the way I want! And they're my life!" Shisui cocked his head back towards Itachi and Sasuke. "Not ya'll. Ya'll can say what you want, but just know I ain't listenin' to it no more! C'mon," He pulled Itachi forward, Sasuke following close behind, leaving his parents in a stunned silence.

A few minutes along, Itachi suddenly stopped, releasing Shisui's arm. He noticed and stopped, turning. "Itamichi?"

"Did you mean it...?" he asked hesitantly.

"Mean what...?"

"That you're going to marry me..." Itachi found himself flustered, bowing his head slightly to hide his flushed cheeks.

Shisui pulled Itachi close to him, kissing him gently. "I wouldn't lie about something like that. Never."

Itachi glanced away, then wrapped his arms around Shisui's neck, holding him close.

Shisui smiled gently. "C'mon. We're grossing Sasuke out with all this P.D.A."

Sasuke laughed quietly, running up alongside the older teens.

"Now you'll really be my nii-san, Shisui!"

Shisui smirked, "Quit trying to butter me up, you'll have to wait for me to teach you how to do it."

"Aw..." Sasuke huffed out an impatient breath quietly, crossing his arms.

"Oh, come on," Shisui laughed. "How about, to make up for it, I carry you the rest of the way home? Sound good?"

Sasuke suddenly smiled, hopping up onto Shisui's back. Shisui feigned exhaustion and laughed, "Sasuke, you're fat!"

"Am not!" Sasuke hit Shisui in the side of the head, earning another chuckle from the oldest Uchiha as he hoisted Sasuke up further. Itachi smiled contently. Things were going to get better...

-O-

"Shisui, it's freezing in here," Itachi complained, checking the thermostat. "But it says the heat's on."

"I'll check it out tomorrow. Here, I'll get another blanket, 'kay?"

Itachi nodded, going into the bathroom to shower. He started the water, pulling off his shirt and tossing it into the hamper, allowing steam to fill the room comfortably. Standing in front of the mirror, he let his hair from it's usual ponytail, allowing it to flow out behind him, running his fingers through it loosely. He looked into the mirror, blushing slightly. What did Shisui see in him...? He said beautiful...Itachi didn't know.

Opening the medicine cabinet, Itachi grabbed a razor from the pack sitting on the narrow shelf, setting it down on the sink counter, then let his gaze wander to the top shelf. He took down bottle by bottle, looking over each one sadly.

_"I'm not crazy," _he whispered desperately. _"I'm not..."_

He suddenly felt hands running up his sides and shivered, smiling. "Shisui...quit. If you wanted to shower with me, you didn't have to sneak up on me. You should've said so-" he closed the cabinet door, catching a reflection behind him, letting out a scream. Fugaku's vile smirk was plastered across his face, a normality, besides the bullet wound between Fugaku's eyes, blood dripping down steadily across the bridge of his nose, staining his teeth as it flowed down the contour of his parted lips.

"Hello, Itachi..." he laughed.

Itachi stepped back, glaring daggers at his dead father. "Go. Away! GO!"

Fugaku shook his head, an irritated twitch showing in his left eyebrow. "Don't be an idiot."

With an annoyed huff, Itachi spun 90 degrees and kicked Fugaku in the stomach-or he assumed. The cracking in his foot didn't sound very pleasant when it made contact with the wall. He fell against the sink, inclining his foot as he shifted his weight. "Motherfucker..." he growled, rubbing his foot gently. He heard Fugaku laugh somewhere in the distance and sneered. "HOW DO I GET RID OF YOU?"

-O-

Itachi jerked awake when Sasuke ran into his room with blood staining his hands, his upper arm slashed open painfully. Shisui quickly cleaned and bandaged it, sighing in relief that he didn't need stitches. Sasuke, however, was badly shaken. "Ni-..nii-nii-sa-san..." he sobbed as Itachi held him.

"What happened, Sasuke?" He asked quietly, comfortingly.

"Da-...dad...dad-..."

Sasuke noticed how Itachi's hug had turned into a vice grip, frightened for a split second as his brother pulled away, shifting his weight onto his good foot and saying, "Come on, Sasuke. Let's get to bed."

-O-

"So...you want to stop me, hm?" Fugaku smirked at his oldest son, who had pushed himself against the opposite wall, finding himself trapped in the same room as his father with no windows, no doors, and no roof, something like an abysmal opening above them. Hands pressed flat against the wall, he nodded twice, anger attempting to mask his avid fear of his paternal master.

"I...I will..." he rasped, though it sounded more like he had been punched in the throat.

"You think you're something special now? Because you _killed_ me? This is how you think you can defeat me? I'm better than ever, with the exception that _you, can't, hurt, me._" Fugaku laughed horribly, tossing his head back, his longish hair flittering behind him. Itachi wondered off-handedly if his hair had ever been long like his. "Somebody _loves_ you? And you think everything is good, great, dandy now. Because you lay there and take it from your cousin. That's love to you? That's not love-"

"Shut up!"

"He's using you like the whore that you are."

"I'm not!"

"Roxanne."

Itachi stopped dead at the nickname, his voice catching in his throat. "S...shut up..." he whispered. "Sh-shut up!"

Fugaku laughed again, a cruel, sadistic twinge beating in his chest where his heart was.

"Yeah, he sang that to you, didn't he? How's that song go? _Roxanne..."_ he sang out, smirking horribly, sickly, mocking Itachi with every fiber of his transient being. _"Put on the red light..."_

Itachi felt something emerge from the walls, wrapping and restraining his wrists and ankles, keeping him pressed firmly against it, giving him only enough slack to lean forward, his head hanging low. It would be so much easier to listen to if his father was a bad singer. But he wasn't. He's where Itachi got his talent, his voice just deeper than his oldest son's. Itachi choked on his words, his knees weakening.

"That's a classic. Pity it's wasted on you," he laughed. "Does he sing it to you, still? Like the whore that you are? _He won't share you with me?"_ he barked. "You're _my_ son. It's obvious. You can go as far as you like away from here. He can take you as far away as you wanna go, to the ends of this God-forsaken earth, and you'll look in the mirror everyday. And you'll never forget where you came from. Who you're father is. No matter what you think of me..." suddenly, Itachi's eyes widened in recognition. _Did he sound upset?_ "I'm your father. No matter what you _want_."

Itachi lifted his head slightly. "You...why do you...?"

Fugaku growled, "Don't talk," and smiled when Itachi stopped.

A flash of anger raged through him, and Itachi yelled, "I'll talk when I want to!"

"Ha! You think you're _something_ now, don't you?"

Itachi looked away, closing his eyes as he relaxed slightly in the grip of the restraints.

Fugaku looked at him contemplatively, considering things Itachi couldn't guess, wouldn't dare to. Scoffing again, shaking his head, he looked Itachi over once more. "You wanna beat me, don't you? Wanna kill me for what I've done? Made you pathetic. Needing to rely on others. Don't."

_There it was again! Desperation._

"Relying on others does nothing for you. I've tried to turn you away from such reliance. Pathetic. Undeserving of pity but pathetic all the same. Look at me when I'm talking to you," Itachi's heart quivered in fear when his name was said, "Itachi, I told you to look at me."

Despite himself, the crow-haired teen looked up slowly, meeting his father's burning red eyes.

"If you want to beat me, fight me on my own level. I won't tolerate an advantage from you. Despite everything, you're capable of victory-_if _you can fight me on my own level," Fugaku turned away, his fists clenched, his hair seeming longer, his shoulders smaller, as if loosing himself in a reversal of time. "I'll let you figure out what that means..."

The restraints released him without his knowledge, and Itachi allowed himself to fall to his knees.

"Idiot," Fugaku spat for good measure before fading away. "Pathetic fuck-up. Think you're too good for everybody else."

Feeling his own time grow short, Itachi could swear he saw Fugaku bite his lip in hesitation as he turned away, his hair growing longer gradually.

-O-

Itachi woke suddenly, a pain in his chest panging at his ribs.

He grabbed the phonebook in the side table, flipping through to the U's, then sliding his finger down until he made it to "M".

-O-

The phone rang absently through the ear piece, Itachi waiting patiently on the other side of the line, waiting for the click that would tell him somebody was there.

_"Hello?"_

"Uncle Madara? This is Itachi."

_"Itachi? Good God, I didn't even know you remembered me. I haven't talked to you since you were twelve! What can I do for you, my dearest nephew?"_

"I need you to tell me about Father. Everything you know. What he was like when he was younger. What grandfather was like. What Grandmother was like. Uncle Amako, Aunt Hihana. Please, tell me everything."

_"That'll take a while, but as long as you have time..."_

"I have all the time in the world, Uncle Madara."

-O-

Reclined on the couch at midnight, Itachi muttered a quiet, "Thank you..." before the line went silent, putting the phone down slowly. He reached to his back, feeling the rough scars etched into his skin with a shiver. "I..."

He could swear he felt a cold hand caress his face before he curled up on the sofa and fell asleep.

-O-

He woke with a start at 4:35 in the morning to find a blanket was placed over him. Shisui was asleep upstairs, and Sasuke as well. Itachi shook his head and didn't hear a whisper of "Goodnight" drift in the air above his ear as a pair of ghostly, maternal lips pressed to his temple.

-O-

"I did what you want, Father," Itachi called in the room. "I can fight on your level now. I figured out what you wanted me to do. What will it change? It just proves you don't know how to filter your anger. You angry, broken loser. You just wish that I would tell you everything you hate about yourself to justify beating me. Right? Right?"

Fugaku emerged from the shadows, bags beneath his eyes, his brunette hair to his shoulderblades, looking considerably younger and not much older than Itachi himself, the similarities in their appearance painful.

"Idiot. You didn't understand. Not fully, anyways."

"What do you mean?"

"You need to reach, my, level," Fugaku smirked, tapping the space between his eyes where a neat, circular scar resided.

Itachi could swear his heart stopped for a second.

"I...I have to...to..."

Fugaku smirked.

"Oh...and could you tell Sasuke I said to man up a bit? It was just a cut. I didn't even go deep."

"You bastard!"

"I knew my father," Fugaku chuckled darkly as Itachi felt the room falling away. "I just didn't like him is all."

* * *

><p>AN: Long chapter, but it explains a lot if you think a bout it. You'll learn why Fugaku says the last thing he does later on if you can't figure it out yet. Let me know what you think is going on between Fugaku and Itachi in a review! I'd love to see what you guys think. The first one who can guess it _may _get a special prize in honour of the 20th chapter!


	21. Madara

"Nii-san," Sasuke whimpered quietly, "My arm..."

Itachi grabbed the peroxide and cotton balls, thanking Shisui as he handed him the gauze, standing by with bandages. Unwrapping his arm, Itachi recoiled slightly at the sight of the inflammed black-scabbed skin, the wound somehow deeper and, despite the care it recieved, much worse than before.

"It hurts so bad, Nii-san," he muttered, "like someone's been cutting me while I'm asleep. It always hurts worse when I wake up."

Shisui noticed his lovers pale, nauseous appearance and sat him down on the couch, taking over, noting how grateful Itachi looked. Shisui nodded simply, smiling a little as he reassured the child, cleaning and rebandaging the wound. "Don't use this arm too much, okay?" he lightly traced the wound, rubbing it carefully, soothingly as Sasuke sniffled, nodding. "What's the matter?"

"Am I gonna have my arm ampusated?" Sasuke's voice trembled slightly.

"Ampus...amputated?" Shisui asked, laughing quietly, wiping away Sasuke's tears with his thumb, kissing his forehead gently, "No, Sasuke. God, no." Shisui ran his fingers through Sasuke's jet black hair, "We'll call Madara tomorrow, okay? He's a doctor, y'know. He'll be able to fix it."

"Ma-Madara?"

"You probably don't remember him all that well. You were five...I think, the last time you saw him...The one with long, fluffy hair. Your uncle," Shisui leaned in to his ear, "He's actually your great-uncle. He doesn't like to be called old."

Sasuke laughed a little bit. "He's nice, right?"

"Yeah, of course he's nice. It's Madara. He's a show-off, and he gets jealous, but he's like a puppy. He warms up to you. And he adores you. You're practically his spitting image!"

"But he's..." Sasuke whispered, _"old."_

"You'd be surprised, Sasuke. You'd be surprised."

-O-

"You sure you don't wanna come, babe?" Shisui asked as he grabbed his keys, slipping his wallet into his back pocket.

"I'm sure. Don't worry, please," Itachi noticed Shisui's worried glance, "I just feel a little unwell. I'll get the guest room ready while you're gone."

"Fine..." Shisui relented, leaning down to his Itamichi who rested on the couch, kissing him deeply before pulling away, running his fingers through Itachi's long girlish hair. "I love you. Be home soon, okay?" Shisui turned, calling upstairs, "C'mon Sasuke!"

Sasuke came padding down the stairs. "Okay. Nii-san, you aren't coming?"

"Uh-uh," Shisui answered for him, "He isn't feeling well."

"Oh..." Sasuke looked a little disappointed, but hugged his brother anyways. "Bye, Nii-san, feel better," Sasuke hugged his brother, nuzzling into his neck slightly.

"Thank you Sasuke. I love you."

"Love you, too."

Itachi lay down on the couch as they left, curling up beneath the comforter he had brought down from his room. The quiet warmth had in asleep in minutes, Ichabod at his side.

-O-

"How about some tunes, squirt?" Shisui asked the child in the backsweat jovially, smiling at the tired pout he recieved. "Sleepy, huh?" he reasoned, reaching into the floor or the passanger's side, handing him a large sweater he had left behind, which Sasuke took with a hum of thanks.

Turning back to the road, Shisui had just enough time to swerve out of the way of a white Toyota speeding straight at him in his lane.

"Holy-!" Shisui slammed his fist into the horn, shouting, "WRONG FUCKIN' LANE MORON!"

He returned to his lane, glancing back at Sasuke. "Sorry about that, kiddo. You alright?"

Sasuke nodded, his wide eyes closing slowly as he tried to sleep again.

"Shit, that was close..." Shisui breathed, fixing his rearview mirror. "The Hell was that...?"

His heart froze when he saw that same truck following them at a steady pace, behind them in the right lane this time. Shisui sped up a bit, fixing his eyes on the road. He noticed that the truck sped up, too, faster than them, and recognition shocked him awake.

"Holy fuck!" he hit the gas, not caring about anything besides getting them as far away from that Toyota as possible. Every turn, every slight curve in the road became more dangerous, the engine spitting in protest. "C'mon, baby, a little more, come on!"

He made a sharp turn, feeling his fender scrape the railing along the edge of the road as the spedometer hit 100. A hundred or so feet ahead, he spotted a chunk of smashed rock, a few shreds of police tape fluttering around the scene. The new Toyota, recently released, had every advantage on his ancient, revamped Mustang, and he thought painfully that his car couldn't go must faster, while the Toyota was barely pushing 90 and keeping up well.

"Come on, come on, come ON!" he hit the steering wheel in desperation as the Toyota hit 120, gaining on them dangerously. "He's gonna run us off the fuckin' cliff, come ON!" he looked back as the looming white truck came closer, the police tape seconds away, seconds they didn't have. He felt a knock against the fender and lost any sense of control. He floored it.

Speeding dangerously against the railguard seperating them from an 150 foot fall over a steep cliff, Shisui closed his eyes for a breif second, praying desperatly, "Please, God, please, fuck, please!"

The ear-splitting crash made the mountain itself rattle as the car went careening over the side of the cliff, falling to the ground far below, the explosion on impact setting fire to and destroying a group of trees on the ground zero of which it landed.

The Toyota exploded into a plume of white smoke, disappearing in a rush.

Shisui slammed his foot down on the brake, feeling the car screech to a painful hault. Letting out a breath, Shisui collapsed against the steering wheel, shaking as he put the car in park, painting slightly, feeling himself trembling. A dark chuckle woke him from his temporary relief, noticing the radio had come on some time during the chase. "Roxanne" crooned from the old radio. Shisui glanced back to see how Sasuke was-if he hadn't died of a heart-attack by then.

"You alri-..."

He smiled, a bit exhasperated. Sasuke was curled up beneath the sweater, sound asleep. Shisui put the car in park, going around to the trunk, taking out the spare gas can he kept in there for emergencies, filling the tank.

"Looks like we're making a detour," he sighed, finding it was only half-full. Tossing the gas can back in the trunk, he went around to the driver's seat, sliding in. He glanced in the rearview mirror, fixing it again. "We'll take the back road home."

Shisui put the car in drive, rolling down the window and patting the side of the blue Mustang affectionatly.

"I knew I did a good job with you," he smiled, relief leaving a harmonious glow over him.

-O-

Itachi woke with a start, his heart thudding as the images of the car rolling over the side of the cliff, the explosion that had certainly killed his loved ones replayed consistantly, flashing before his eyes. They resonated painfully in his mind as he grabbed his cell phone.

"Please pick up Shisui..." he murmured beneath his breath, feeling painfully winded as he took deap breaths, in, out, trying to calm himself, his heart beating against his ribcage. Relief flooded his brain when he heard _"Hello?"_.

"Shisui?" _Oh, thank God!_

_"Hey, babe. What's up?"_

"Where are you? Are you guys alright?" Itachi tried to keep his voice even as he swallowed, feeling his heart steady.

_"At the gas station, ten, twenty minutes from the depot."_

"Okay. How's Sasuke?"

_"Sleepin'. He's literally passed out, I considered taking a hard turn just to smash him against the window. It'd be funny."_

Itachi heard Shisui laugh and couldn't help but smile as well. "Don't do that. Be careful, though."

Itachi could've sworn he heard Shisui roll his eyes at the mother hen that he was. _"Yes, mom," _his laugh came clearly through the phone, his serious facade lost in the humour, _"I'll see you when I get home, okay? I love you."_

"I love you too. Bye."

_"Bye."_

Itachi smiled again in relief, stretching and heading upstairs to get the guest room ready.

-O-

"See him anywhere?" Shisui glanced around for their long-lost relative.

"Mmm-mmm..." Sasuke mumbled, rubbing his eye sleepily.

Shisui frowned a bit, picking Sasuke up and carrying him into the station.

"That train arrived several minutes ago. You can check the landing station."

"Thanks," Shisui nodded, leaving the air conditioned station (remorsefully), the heat hitting him like a sucker punch, raising his hand to shade his eyes from the light.

"Where's Uncle Madara...?" Sasuke asked, nearly dozing off despite the sweltering heat.

"I dunno..."

Shisui looked around. A woman was barking into her cell phone with a crying child on her hip. A teenager smoked a cigarette as he leaned against a column, his long black and blue streaked hair tucked behind his ear. A man stood with a paper Uchiwa, painted white and red, fanning himself calmly, his long black hair pulled into a large ponytail behind him, his bangs framing his composed face.

"Madara!"

The man looked over in recognition.

"_This_ is how you beat the heat? Still stuck in the old ways, I see," Shisui chided, gesturing towards the paper fan in his relative's hand.

"Still loud as ever, eh? You're an adult, now. You've all grown past recognition, practically. I wouldn't be surprised if I couldn't even tell who Sasuke was anymore," Madara glanced down to the sleepy child, smiling at the sight of his now-older great-nephew. "Where is Itachi, my painfully effeminate nephew?"

"He isn't feeling well, so he stayed home," Shisui answered, putting Sasuke down and picking up Madara's luggage.

"I can get that."

"You're old."

Madara stopped, stunned. "You tawpie," he growled, instead picking up Sasuke.

"Madara, your back!" Shisui mocked fear.

"I'm not that damn old, boy!" Madara barked at him, hitting him in the head with the Uchiwa mercilessly, satisfied at the heavy thwack it made.

-o-

Sasuke was a bit apprehensive as he was held, but decided that this man wasn't so bad, and _was_ his uncle, after all. He relaxed into Madara's hold and smiled slightly as he hit Shisui in the head.

-o-

"Here we are," Shisui smiled. "Home sweet home."

"Same as I remember it," Madara agreed, smiling.

"I'm surprised you can remember anything with your age," Shisui laughed even after he was hit in the arm with the fan.

"How old _are_ you, Uncle Madara...?" Sasuke asked cautiously, laughing into his hand when Shisui answered, "Old as dirt."

"I'm not that damn old!" Madara snapped, shutting the door as he left the car.

_"Yes he is,"_ Shisui whispered to the giggling Sasuke, getting the bags from the trunk.

Sasuke noticed as they walked up the driveway how Madara eyed the tree in the yard suspiciously, but shrugged it off. The tree _did_ look weird, anyways. All crooked and bent. Two names were carved into the tree in Japanese, but Sasuke hadn't learned enough to decipher anything past, "Shira," and "Ma,ra".

-o-

"I'll bring your stuff up to your room."

"Thank you, Shisui," Madara claled over his shoulder, his medical bag open at his side. "Let's see this wound..."

His eyes widened at the sight of such a horrible wound eating away at his nephew's arm. Gathering himself, he began to clean it, disinfecting the dark wound with Betadine and cleaning away the worst scabs, tracing the mouth of the wound with alchohol wipes, grabbing suture.

"This won't hurt too much, okay? You need to remember to take the antibiotics I gave you every day. Have Itachi or Shisui help you. And be careful with this arm. You don't want the stitches to open up, that would be bad. I have pain medicine that you can take whenever it hurts. It isn't too strong. Done."

Sasuke looked up suddenly, noticing he hadn't felt it at all. "You did it that quick? I didn't feel it!"

"It's an old doctor's trick. Talk to them while you're stitching up their arm or giving them a shot, distract them. They don't even feel it," Madara ruffled Sasuke's hair, wrapping a bandage around Sasuke's stitches.

"Thank you, Uncle Madara," Sasuke smiled.

"Of course," Madara returned.

-o-

"You live all alone?"

"Yeah. We really don't have any relatives besides you," Itachi answered from over his mug of tea, a blanket around his drawn shoulders, his knees pulled to his chest as they relaxed in the den after dinner.

"Well, you should move in with me at my estate up North. I don't like the idea of you guys living all alone like this. My home is large enough for all of us and then some. I could use the company as well. It gets a bit lonely. And I love my nephews. Living alone is painful enough, but it would be so much better to have you all there."

"You haven't found anyone yet?" Shisui asked from where he reclined with Ichabod on the rug, the purring cat blinking slowly.

"Not really. Haven't been looking."

"Looking for what?" Sasuke spoke up with his hot cocoa.

"He really hurt you, huh?" Shisui looked concerned.

"More than you know."

"Who?" He asked again.

"Nobody, Sasuke," Itachi responded.

"I wanna know," he pouted slightly.

"Some other time. We should get to bed soon."

They all agreed, and as Shisui and Sasuke went upstairs, Madara stopped Itachi with a gentle hand on his upper arm, whispering lowly, "Itachi, is something going on between you and Shisui?"

"Uh...yeah...there is," Itachi felt his cheeks redden and looked away.

"Just...be careful alright?" he mumbled, his expression worried, sad, "Anything can happen," he began up the stairs as well.

Itachi watched him climb, feeling a wave of insecurity wash over him. He crossed his arms over his chest and followed after him.

-o-

"Think about it, Itamichi," Shisui called from the bathroom as he spit out toothpaste, coming into the bedroom as he shut off the light, "We can get away from here. Away from Fugaku."

With the blankets drawn up around his shoulders, Itachi mittered hoarsly, "No...no matter how far we go we can never escape. _I _can never escape..."

* * *

><p>AN: Okay, so I have a bit of a contest going on. It's running until Saturday! (Used to be Monday, but I've extended it)

So, if you can guess three things about Fugaku's past, I'll write a nice, long one-shot with ANY pairing you want (Or even no pairing!) any rating, any sort of anything, about anything, etc.

I'll announce the winner (Or maybe winners if I'm feeling generous~) in a future chapter.

Answers in Private Messages please! Don't want any cheaters~

You can choose any three, and please elaborate a bit, okay? I don't want one word answers unless it's a yes or no, please.

Here are the questions:

1. Why do you think Fugaku is as abusive as he is towards his family?

2. Why do you think Fugaku focuses mainly on Itachi?

3. Why does his hair seem to grow longer every time he shows a hint of remorse or emotion other than rage?

4. What do you think Sasuke meant when he said "That's how mom looks at dad when he isn't looking!" (When he asked about Itachi and Shisui's relationship in a previous chapter)

5. Why does Fugaku want Itachi to "Fight him on his own level", and what do you think that means?

6. Why do you think Fugaku wants to injure or possibly kill Sasuke and Shisui, instead of just Itachi? (Please besides the obvious "To hurt Itachi")

Okay~ Those are the questions~

Oke-doky, please answer in a PM, like I said, please enjoy my stories, please review, and please have fun with the contest!

Winner gets a long one-shot with anything they want in it~(Especially hentai, my FAVE! Lolz)

Thank you~


	22. Dark Masses

"Who hurt you, Itachi?" Shisui asked quietly, touching the bruises delicately, careful to not press the wounds across his upper arms, eyeing the cut on his upper lip worriedly.

"I did it to myself," he whispered hypnotically, as if he'd said it a hundred times already and was prepared to say it again and again. "I did it to myself."

"You can't do this to yourself, Itamichi."

"I did it to _myself_."

"Did you get into a fight? Did..." Shisui looked down to Itachi's bare feet, covered in dirt and scrapes, marks that would form callouses on the delicate skin, his shirt was torn slightly, a scrape on his cheek, as if he ran to him in the dark of the night they sat in now in Shisui's room. A bruise was placed mysteriously on his collarbone, another on his neck, looking different than the others, his wrists raw and looking incredibly chafed, his lips chewed on and red. "Who did this?" Shisui asked firmly, holding on to Itachi's upper arms tightly, not letting him escape as he watched his younger cousin carefully, the widened eyes suddenly looking panicky, the child trembling horribly.

"Don't let me go back there!" he shrieked, pushing himself face-first into Shisui's chest, wrapping his arms around his cousin's torso, shaking violently in his lap as Shisui petted his hair. "Don't let him touch me!"

Shisui's heart nearly broke as his dear cousin wailed desperately into his chest, holding him close.

"I won't...Itachi," he mumbled uncertainly, knowing that he would have to go back eventually, considering he had run here in the middle of the night in the-when had it been raining?-pouring rain, barefoot and scared, needing something familiar to cling to to keep himself sane, something to keep him okay, someone to hold him.

Shisui stopped, realizing that Itachi...had ran to him for this comfort. Almost a second home.

With more certainty, Shisui whispered, "He'll never really harm you, Itachi. I'll always be here so he can't hurt you. When you're there, everything is either a dream or nightmare. When you're with me, you're awake. I'll keep you safe when you're awake. I'm always here for you. I'll never, _ever_ let him hurt you."

"Y-you wake up from nightmares when it hurts..." he whispered hoarsly, sniffling.

"It won't hurt if you won't let it, Itachi," Shisui muttered honestly, his heart lightening when Itachi looked up at him with utter resolve to believe what he said, trust so raw and candid that Shisui had to bite back tears as he held the eleven-year-old closer. "Never let anyone hurt you. I won't let anyone hurt you, but you have to try, too, okay? Don't try. Don't let anyone hurt you. Okay?"

Itachi relaxed into Shisui's arms once more, closing his eyes and sighing contently despite the tears rolling down across the bridge of his nose and dripping onto Shisui's plaid pajama pants. "C'mon, let's get you some nightclothes," Shisui smiled, laying the child onto the bed and going into his closet, going through a few boxes until he found an old pair that would probably fit Itachi, turning back around. Finding that his Itamichi was asleep, he went to undress him. Shisui narrowly avoided the violent kick from the half-asleep child, blinking twice as Itachi screamed, "No! Don't touch me!" Itachi sat up on his elbows, looking fearfully at Shisui as he smiled. "Relax, 'tachi. Okay? I won't do anything to you. Do you wanna get dressed yourself? If you want to, it's fine. I just wanted you to be comfortable."

Shisui held the pajama pants out to him benignly, smiling comfortingly as Itachi took them with a trembling hand, then went into the bathroom to change. Waiting for his cousin lasted for minutes that seemed hours, and finally the door creaked slightly as Itachi asked for a shirt. Mentally smacking himself, Shisui said, "Of course," quickly, rifling through his drawer until he found a large tee-shirt he hadn't worn in a while and brought it to Itachi with his eyes politely adverted from the shy child, smiling as he came out dressed in his clothing. A wave of posession washed over Shisui as he asked, "Would you rather stay in the guest room?"

He was surprised when Itachi shook his head no, and began to climb into Shisui's bed. Shisui helped him up because even _he_ had trouble getting onto his remarkably high bed sometimes, especially when tired or doused with depression, wanting nothing but to collapse, yet knowing he had to make it to the bed or risk a concussion. Shisui pulled the covers over his young guest, pleasantly surprised when Itachi pressed closer to him than humanly possible, noticing how painfully cliche it was that their hearts seemed to be in unison, skin becoming an intangible thing as they melded together perfectly, as if adoration wasn't a strong enough word, or devotion, or absolute resignation to love this person forever. However, Shisui found himself breaking cliches as he realized that the one he was holding was only eleven, and his younger, long-haired, painfully intellectual, pathologically shy, yet strong and able cousin. He realized that person was the one he loved desperatly. That epiphany hit Shisui so hard that he physically recoiled, and avoided Itachi's questioning gaze as he simply whispered, "I love you," kissing his forehead chastely, attempting to convey those emotions with subtelty.

-o-

Itachi sat cross-legged on Shisui's high bed, reading a chapter book contently as Shisui entered the room.

"What'cha readin'?" Shisui smiled, glancing at the pages absentmindedly.

"What happened to the author?"

"Uh...if I remember, he commit suicide, a long time ago."

"Why?"

"Something about a 'lifetime of countless shames'," he shrugged. "He was kinda a gloomy guy."

Itachi blinked twice, then slowly returned to the book. "A lifetime of countless shames..."

Shisui nodded, pulling on a clean shirt as he raked a hand through his decidedly uninportant hair, sitting beside his best friend as he read over his shoulder. "It is a good book, though. For a depressing guy, anyways."

Itachi promptly closed the book, staring fixedly down at the cover. "I'm a depressing guy," he stated simply.

"No you aren't, Itachi," Shisui assured. "You're fun. And adorable. And lovable in every way." Shisui smiled. "Anything but depressing."

"Then why does father say it?"

"Say what...?"

"I'm depressed. That's why I'm supposed to take pills, isn't it? To be easier to be around."

Shisui stopped before he could say anything, biting back vile words as his eyes widened in shock.

"What...pills, 'tachi?"

"Prozac...to make me easy to be around. Ritalin to make me pay attention in school. Geodon to make me sleep at night, amd make me less depressing...and some other things father says I have to take."

Shisui practically felt a vein burst in his forehead. "When do you have to take them? Does he watch you?"

"Yeah...he makes sure I take them."

"Itachi, listen to me closely. Hide them. When you take them, hide them under your tongue or something. Press it down close, or hide it in your cheeks, but don't take that stuff, okay? When he's gone, spit them out in the toilet or sink and get rid of them so he thinks you took them. Then rinse your mouth out with water, but don't swallow. Understand?"

"I need them, though. So I'm not-"

"You already aren't."

"But I've been taking them."

"Then you're probably a hundred times better off of them. It's for your own good, anyways. And even if everyone else hates you when you're off them, that won't matter, okay? Because I'll always love you the way you ar-" Shisui stopped himself quickly, glancing away.

"You..."

"Yeah. I'll always..." Shisui steadied himself. "No matter what, I'll love you always. Even if the whole world hates you, wants you dead," Shisui cupped Itachi's cheek lightly. "I'll always love you just as you are. You're perfect."

Itachi blinked twice, his brow furrowing. "Paedophile," he chided, but broke out in a slight smile, as if he was hiding tears.

"What's the matter?"

"Nobody's ever told me anything like that before..." he mumbled.

"Well, I will whenever you want me to."

Itachi laid his head down in Shisui's lap, murmuring, "Tell me again."

"I'll always, always, _always_ love you just the way you are, Itamichi. You're absolutely perfect in every single microscopic way. I love you so much, you have no idea," Shisui kissed Itachi on the temple, petting his hair gently. "I'll always love you, no matter what."

Itachi blinked twice, curling up closer to Shisui and whispering gently against his leg, _"I love you, too."_

-o-

They woke in the middle of the night to violent banging on the door. Jerking awake, Shisui noticed Itachi was nearly hyperventilating, his tiny hand fisting the sheets beneath him as he squeezed his eyes shut against the banging. "I'll be right back," he assured, going downstairs to find whoever was banging at the door, despite how blatently obvious it was because, really, who else would get up at one in the morning just to hunt down his frightened son he abused?

"What is it?" Shisui asked tiredly.

"Where the Hell is he? I know he's here, Shisui."

"And what if he isn't!" Shisui challanged, getting closer to his raging uncle, his height nearly miniscule compared to the thirty-something but his audacity far out exceeding.

"I'll go in there and get him myself."

"Then I'll fuckin' kill you 'cause it's legal and 'cause I really fuckin' wanna! I'll shoot you between the eyes you stupid motherfucker!"

"Who the fuck do you think you're talking to-!" Fugaku's voice had escalated to a raged scream before he saw the young child peer around the archway leading to the kitchen. "You."

Shisui turned to see Itachi wince and motioned gently for him to come forward. "Come on. It's alright, Itachi."

"Hell no it isn't alright," Fugaku growled, staring coldly at his son. "Pathetic fuck-up."

Shisui nearly punched Fugaku in the face but Itachi grabbed his hand suddenly, whispering, _"Please stop."_

Shisui resigned, placing a hand on Itachi's shoulder, petting his hair. _"Remember," _Shisui muttered down to him. _"Remember what I told you."_

Fugaku watched the affections between the two, wincing slightly, going unnoticed. In a sudden rage, he yanked Itachi away by his arm, Itachi feeling a painful _pop_ in his shoulder as he called back, "I remember!"

Shisui nodded weakly as he heard the thunder crash suddenly, the sihlouette of the scene etched on his retina when the lightning flashed violently as his young cousin was wrenched away from him cruelly, fighting against his biological captor as dark masses erased the stars and clouds denigrated the sky. Shisui could only mutter under his breath in utter disbelief as he stood, the doorframe in his hand, his body going numb in increduliy. _This isn't happening. This isn't happening._

Shisui closed the door slowly, staring at the ground, feeling himself sweat slightly in fear. He pressed his forehead to the cold wooden door as the heat storm raged outside. He couldn't help but keep mouthing nonsense as his voice escaped him.

Shisui dragged himself upstairs weakly, crawling onto his bed in the same spot where Itachi had lain peacefully not minutes ago, breathing deeply as he felt himself sink into a dreamless, merciful sleep.

-o-

Shisui would later realize that he had been crying in his sleep when he woke up with the feeling that his eyes had just frozen over from the glacial tears and his pillow was soaked beneath his head. There was a painful ache in his neck and his body felt weak from the exertion of sobbing while he was asleep. Sometimes Shisui wished he was a sleepwalker just so he would someday die from an accident that couldn't have been prevented and, anyways, wouldn't have been wanted to.

-o-

A/N: Contest is almost over in case anyone wants to do a last-minute submission!

I can't wait to announce the winner soon. It's gonna be so fun writing a one-shot for somebody!

Hope you enjoyed this chapter. It's just a bit of a flashback/filler/possible assistant for the contest because I haven't elaborated on Fugaku much. Of course I won't just give it away, though! There's a bit of squinting you'll have to do to find the hint, though. And by a bit, I mean you may need a magnifying glass unless you tend to overthink things~

Please rate and review! I'm sure it would help Itachi remember what Shisui said~

Now if you'll excuse me, it's one in the morning and I have to go stop my cat Rabbit from doing parkour on my sister's face. No lie. He's going ballistic.

Love you guys~


	23. Much More

"Hold still, Itamichi!"

"No, I want to see what you're doing, Shisui."

"You'll absolutely love it, I'm certain."

"You're an idiot! How can I trust you at all?"

"Because you know you can," Shisui grinned behind Itachi's head as he tugged away at the beautiful locks that tumbled freely down the younger's back when they were released. "How is your hair so long for a thirteen-year-old's?"

"I get it from mother, I believe..."

"Ha! Mama's boy!"

"I am no such thing."

Shisui just snickered.

"What the Hell are you doing?"

"Just making your hair look nice. You wanna look pre-pretty don't you?" He couldn't hide the laugh when he said it, having to pause in brushing the crow-colored hair in favor of silently cracking up behind his best friend.

"I swear to God, if I look stupid, I'll punch you in the throat."

"Jesus Christ, kiddo, you sure are violent, aren'tcha?"

"When necessary, yes."

"All a matter of necessity, huh?"

"Ow! Careful, Shisui, my head."

"Sorry, babe," Shisui petted his hair gently, smiling. "And...done!"

Itachi opened his eyes, gasping. "What in the Hell have you done to me!"

"You look pretty!"

"I look like a moron!" Itachi yelled, his voice breaking slightly. Quickly hiding his face in embarassment, he turned away from Shisui, who only snorted in laughter.

"Now you _really_ look like a girl, Itamichi."

"Shisui..." he muttered, "I look so stupid. Why would you do this to me?"

"Because, you're cute. And I wanted to. And I wanted to prove you were cute."

"You could've told me."

"You wouldn't have believed me. And I tell you all the time, dumbass!"

Itachi sighed, staring back at his reflection boredly. Two large bows held his hair in pigtails that reached to his shoulders, the excess running down his back. With his eyelashes and rounded face, Itachi was reluctant to admit he _did_ look a bit feminine. He turned back to Shisui. "Fine. It's to make you happy. I look like a girl. I'm..._cute_," he said with reluctance, sneering unconsciously as he glanced back at the mirror bitterly.

"Great! My mom has some dresses-"

"Bitch," Itachi threw the hairbrush at Shisui irritably.

-o-

"Oh, come on, Itachi, you know I didn't mean anything by it," Shisui muttered benignly, his eyes following the contour of Itachi's cheek, wanting desperatly to reach out and cup it. He rolled his eyes at his overly romantic ideals, labeling it simply as a qualia he'd have to eliminate eventually. Smirking at his sentimental ways, he flicked off the t.v., glancing over to the child sitting on the opposite side of the couch, reading. "Literati," he mumbled affectionatly, nudging the teenager with his foot. "C'mon, we're going out."

"Going out?" Itachi asked incredulously. "I'd rather stay in."

"I don't care. You're a shut in, depressing literary child. Loosing yourself in books is no longer an option, Itamichi, now let's go."

"Where, exactly," Itachi bookmarked the page, "do you want to drag me out to, against my will, mind you?"

"I dunno. Movie?"

"What possible movie would entertain me?"

Shisui laughed mirthlessly. "You're so cute! God, I love you. Wanna go see a horror film? I hear the new Saw movie is out."

"..." Itachi blushed, looking away.

Shisui noticed. "Hm? What's up? You don't like horror? We can see something else."

"No...I..." Itachi glanced back at Shisui shyly. "...Saw is my favorite," he smiled. "I would love to go see it."

Shisui stopped. "You're such a little sadomasochist, 'tachi," he grinned. "Alright, let's go, then. Dinner and a movie. Or maybe the other way around, 'cause it gets a little gorey. I mean, for you. If you wanna eat first it's fine. But you're a kid, so-"

"I'll be fine. I've seen worse."

"Sure?"

Itachi nodded slightly, standing up, his small smile filled with excitement despite its size. "Father says that I'm sick for liking the movies like I do, but they're so...incredible. The truth of human suffering to reach Nirvana, you could say. The will to live and the weakness of death. A lot of people really don't treasure life."

"What would you do if you were trapped in one of them? Jigsaw's traps, I mean."

"Depends on what was left for me. And what I did. And what I'd have to do. If I murdered somebody...well...depending on the reason, I would feel I deserved it. But if I still had people out there that cared, even though I was a murderer...people like you...then I would survive. I would do what it takes. But if I had to kill somebody I loved, then I couldn't. No matter what."

Shisui stared down at the teenager, who was staring ahead absently, his eyes glazed as if thinking.

"Itamichi..."

Itachi's eye twitched slightly but he looked up, perfectly fine.

"You would never be in a Saw trap. You're too good of a person."

"I'm a child."

"And already far too good."

"It isn't about if you're a good or bad person. Drug addict, murderer, attempted suicide, rapist...you just have to give your life away. Take it for granted."

"Those are all bad people, don't you think?" Shisui grabbed his keys from the counter, slipping his wallet into his back pocket, as always.

"..."

-o-

Halfway through the drive, Itachi mumbled, "There are traps for people who are good, too."

-o-

The sun was finally setting as they sat on the dock, eating ice cream and watching the sky melt into a bloody red.

"Shisui...?"

"Yeah, 'tachi?"

"...thanks for a perfect day."

Shisui smiled down at the teenager, who absently licked his ice cream as his feet dangled over the edge of the dock. "No problem. I love doing stuff with you and _you,_" Shisui accentuated with a quick jab to Itachi's forehead, "You need to get out of the house more. Such a literary shut in as yourself will rot if not taken out for sunlight every once and a while."

"I do go outside, you know."

"Not enough. Itamichi, you need to realize that socializing is practically what we humans are made for. We're naturally social creatures. But you..."

"I'm different, aren't I?..." he mumbled quietly. "Weird. That's why father makes me take my medicine. But I don't do it anymore, because you said it isn't good for me to."

"Itachi..."

"I'll always listen to what you say because you've never hurt me. You take care of me. You make me happy. You do fun things with me, and always listen to me. You're...more of a father than he is," Itachi suddenly looked up with determination at the sun. "I...don't see him as a father anymore...You taught me that...how he treats me is wrong...that no matter what I do, I shouldn't be hit...especially not by him..."

Shisui noticed the silent tears dripping down Itachi's face slowly, illuminated by the light of the dying sun rays.

"I thought I was such a bad person before. I thought that I did everything wrong. That no matter what I did, it was never good enough," white streams began to flow down Itachi's hand from the melting ice cream, but he didn't seem to notice. "I thought I was a horrible being, that I never should have been born because of how he treated me. I thought I deserved to die. Sometimes I wanted to. Other times I tried to think of more positive things...but never could. I never really understood the concept of 'friends' before you. It was just a word that everybody said. Sasuke's friends...he talks about them so fondly. Kimmi, Naruto, Mai...Even Momma has friends. Kushina-san was one. Miyou-san...the ones she went shopping with...but..." the cone suddenly snapped as Itachi muttered quietly, as if ashamed to admit it, "I never really had friends...I didn't know how to make them. Everybody avoided me at school and treated me like I wasn't welcome. I was always the youngest in my grade because I skipped them and people didn't like that. They treated me like a freak...like a privilaged child whose parents paid for him to skip all of those grades...but I was working hard so father wouldn't hit me for once. He was never satisfied, though. Always treating me like what I did was wrong. He yelled at me a lot. 'You think you're better than everyone else because you skipped two grades?', things like that. But I did it so he would be happy. I never could make him happy. I thought it was something wrong with me. I thought I was deficient."

"I...Itachi..."

In all the years he had known Itachi, never had he talked about what had happened, not once. Never admitted anything. Hid all the bruises and covered up the scars, never cried, never looked unhappy. Generally, he seemed like he had a normal life. But Shisui could always detect the sadness hidden behind Itachi's obsidian eyes. The ones that could break his heart with their empty gaze.

The cone fell apart in his hand suddenly, ice cream splashing onto the dock and falling into the ocean as Itachi's fist stayed suspended in the air, shaking as his head was bowed, tears streaming from his eyes squeezed shut. Shisui was about to reach out for him when suddenly Itachi yelled, "I love you, Shisui! You treat me like a person! You treat me like I deserve to live! You deal with me being moody and sad and antisocial and you never judge me and you never hurt me and you love me for who I am! You mock me in a way that makes me smile and you always care about what I think! You never want me to die and you never tell me that you hate me! You love me for who I am and when I'm with you I feel safe and really, truly happy! I don't have to fake my smiles. I can be myself! I'm a person when I'm with you! I'm _loved_!" Itachi's voice broke as the infliction raised his voice.

Itachi gripped Shisui's arm suddenly, pressing his face into the soft of his sleeve, sobbing openly. "Don't e-ever leave me...don't ever...ever...please...don't..."

Shisui pulled Itachi into his arms, holding him close. _"Never, Itachi. I'll never leave you. You'll always be safe with me."_

Itachi looked up at Shisui, eyes brimmed with tears, whispering, "I love you, Shisui. I don't care about father anymore. I'm not afraid to tell you anymore. I do love you. I love you so much. You taught me what love really is. It isn't forced. It's effortless. It's perfect and effortless and I do love you and please show me that I'm not wrong about what it is...please."

Shisui petted Itachi's hair gently, complying when Itachi leaned up, his head tilted upwards. Shisui kissed him gently, his hand tangled in Itachi's hair as Itachi gripped the front of his shirt, pressing his lips to Shisui's desperatly. Itachi wrapped his arms around Shisui's neck as he leaned in closer, Itachi effortlessly melding into Shisui just like that night two years ago, pressing his lips to Shisui's again after breaking for air. Shisui whispered a dark promise to Itachi gently, holding him closer than before, their existance entwined once again as reality melted away. Itachi smiled at him again, a heart-breakingly honest smile, and Shisui released him, much to his discontent. "What...?"

Shisui unclasped the necklace around his throat, the one with three metal rings linked along it, and turned Itachi around, fastening it around Itachi's instead.

"This is your..."

"Keep it, Itamichi."

"But it's your good luck charm."

"I have you, though. I don't need more luck than that. You're all that I need. You, however, need all the luck you can get, it seems," Shisui kissed Itachi on the nape of his neck, smiling, still. "I never want you to take this off, okay? If anything ever happens...it reminds you that I'm always here. Always protecting you."

Itachi leaned back against Shisui's chest as Shisui wrapped his arms around Itachi's waist, kissing the top of his head.

"...so we're a _thing_ now?"

"We've always been, when you think about it. It just took a little time."

"I'm glad that I know you, Shisui. I'm glad you're my friend."

"I'll always be so much more, Itachi. So much more."

-o-


	24. Going

Pulling his long dark hair over his shoulder, he began to brush it through, glancing out of the window absently as he felt any tangles that manifested through the night fall away at the sweep of his brush. Raking his fingers though it once more to check for anything missed, he decided it was good enough, leaving the brush behind as he got dressed for the day. Absently scratching at his wrist, the clock read "11:43" and he found himself wishing school wasn't out for summer so he could escape home for a while.

Suddenly, a _clink!_ echoed on the glass of his window. Glancing to the world outside, he noticed a mop of messy hair and smiled.

"What the Hell? Why are you trying to break my window?" he laughed.

"Because you aren't down here yet, Fugaku! Come on!" Mikoto smiled, tucking a strand of her boycut hair behind her ear.

Rolling his eyes, Fugaku made his way down the stairs, deciding on taking his time just to piss of his best friend and trigger her hilarious "Royal Bitch Attitude" she adopted whenever upset. A slighted smile on his face, Fugaku grabbed an apple from the bowl on the island in the kitchen, turning only to see his father standing behind him.

"Good morning, Father," he growled irritably, moving to step around him. Masao, however, blocked his path with a shift of his foot, glaring slightly.

"Where, exactly, do you think you're going?"

"Out."

"Out? When you still have summmer work?"

"My room is clean, Father."

"Your essay?"

"Done. Spellchecked. Printed. In a protective cover and put away with my school supplies for next year."

"Knowing you, it's subpar. Your bathroom?"

"Done. Laundry, too."

Masao's eyebrow twitched slightly, his head lilting in a way Fugaku recognized as irritation and quickly stepped backwards.

"Fine. Go."

Fugaku nodded, refusing to thank him in any way for a moment of freedom. As Masao walked away, though, the apple that had once been clean and whole was crushed in his hand, Fugaku tossing it into the garbage before putting his Doc Martens on at the door, reaching for the doorknob when, "Onii-san!"

Fugaku looked over his shoulder as Hihana trotted over to him, begging to be picked up. "Hello, imoutou," Fugaku lifted her up onto his hip.

"Where going?" the four-year-old's head lilted slightly as her father's did, except in curiosity instead of impatience. Fugaku fixed it with a hand placed on her head, holding it up straight.

"Going outside with Miki," Fugaku smiled as Hihana chanted "Miki!" happily, knowing Mikoto as the girl who always gave her candy and played with her when she came over.

"Come?"

"Not today, Hana. Maybe next time," Fugaku placed her on the ground, smiling as she pouted, her lower lip pooching slightly as Fugaku called, "I'm leaving!" over his shoulder.

"Outoutou," He heard behind him.

"What?" Fugaku glared over his shoulder, scowling.

"You cleared this with father, right?"

"Yes, Daddy's pet."

Hihana laughed quietly. "Daddy's pet! Daddy's pet!"

"No, Hihana. Come here."

Hihana looked to Fugaku, then to Amakko. She slowly walked over to the oldest of the three, mouthing, "Sorry, onii-san," as she turned.

Fugaku watched coldly, turning away, making sure to slam the door behind himself, despite his calm demeanor.

"Took ya long enough, bastard," Mikoto crossed her arms, tapping her foot impatiently.

"I know my father. I just don't like him. Anyways, don't go RBA on me. Not in the mood."

"You're never in the mood, Fuddy Duddy, come on! Let's go to the skate park!"

"Mikoto-"

"Yes! You made me wait, so I get to choose where we go. Either there or Spinner's."

"I left my wallet inside."

"Go get it!" Mikoto pushed him lightly.

"I don't feel like going back in there."

"Fugak-"

"Okay! Okay."

Fugaku's eyebrow twitched as he toyed with the barbell in it for a breif moment, turning back to the house. Suddenly, though, he ran to the hidden pipe on the side, climbing up it then jumping to the roof beneath his window, opening it and sliding in.

"Show off," Mikoto scoffed. "I bet the birds are _real_ impressed, Mr. Parkour."

Fugaku flashed a breif, mischevious smile as he closed his window behind himself, jumping off of the roof, landing in a tumble. "Show off, am I?"

"You got a little dirt right there," Mikoto notioned to his shirt.

"Where?"

"There," she flicked upwards, hitting him in the nose. "You didn't see it? Maybe you should look again."

"There's some dirt on my fist, wanna see that?"

Mikoto laughed, glancing down at his hand as they walked down the street heading towards the mall, wishing desperatly that her's wasn't empty.

-o-

"'Sup, Fugaku?" a long-haired teen walked over to the pair as they sat in the food court, Mikoto picking the onions off of her burger and throwing them on Fugaku's tray.

"Hey, Inabi."

"Who's the sexy chick?" Inabi cocked his head at Mikoto, winking. "'Sup, baby? I'm single."

"See why?" Fugaku smirked.

"Is she your girlfriend?"

"No."

Mikoto felt her heart deflate a bit and threw a fry at Fugaku. He raised an eyebrow questioningly but looked back to Inabi. "So what do you want, anyways?"

"Jeez, wanted to say hi to my bestie," Inabi laughed.

"Say that again and I'll punch you in the face, then you're gonna cry in front of Mikoto, and that'll be funny."

"I am not gonna cry."

"You did last time I hit you in the face."

Inabi recoiled slightly. "We were three!"

"Psh. Try _thirteen_."

Mikoto watched, amused as the two went back and forth, smiling slightly. _I never knew he actually acted like a teenager,_ she thought, surprised, but incredibly relieved. "So, who's seme?" she threw in, just to stir them up more.

They both shot her a confused look. "W-What?" Inabi stammered out.

"She's a yaoi freak," Fugaku suddenly realized, relaxing back into the plastic chair.

"Am not."

"Totally are."

"Am not!"

"_Totally_ are," Fugaku corrected her again, picking up one of the onions Mikoto had flung onto his tray and eating it plain, laughing as Mikoto recoiled in disgust.

_"Yuck," _she muttered. "Good thing I'm not your girlfriend, 'cause if you _ever_ did that again, I wouldn't kiss you for _shit_."

Strangely, Fugaku felt a pang in his chest as he just rolled his eyes, Inabi sitting down at the table with them.

-o-

Fugaku quietly slipped back into his house through the window, a careful ear out for anyone awake. _"Shit, I'm screwed," _he mumbled, slipping his shoes off and setting them down gently. With impulse, he suddenly glanced over his shoulder, looking up at the stars Mikoto was so fascinated with for some reason. That enchanted look she seemed to get every time she glanced at the sparkling balls of useless gas and reaction...he couldn't see the attraction. Suddenly, though, the sound of his door opening caught his attention.

"Where the fuck were you?"

Fugaku turned, wide-eyed and startled as his father came into the room, grabbing him by his throat as he stared him in the eyes.

_"-e! Let! Go! You're choking me! Stop!"_

"It's one in the fucking morning."

_"Ni-ice observation, asshole!"_ Fugaku spat, feeling his father's fist connect with his face painfully, his cheekbone almost cracking with the force.

Masao threw his son to the ground, Fugaku wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he spat blood onto the floor, trying to regain himself. The wind was knocked from him as his father's foot connected with his stomach, then his ribs, kicking with timed and powerful force as he was left gasping, holding his abdomen as he silently swore that something was ruptured.

"Don't let me catch you out that late again. Next time..." Masao frowned. "You. Why can't you be like your brother? Even your sister? Amakko is so much more talented, intelligent, frankly better than you-"

_"Y-You know he,"_ Fugaku groaned, _"Got a girl knocked up?"_ he muttered between gasps, his long hair falling over his shoulder, hiding him from view as the foot connected again, causing Fugaku to let out a choked sob as he felt his ribs creak with objection, his stomach lurching as he felt more blood flood his mouth. Laying his head on the ground, he tried to breathe correctly.

"At least he could get a girl."

_"E-ever heard of r-rape?"_

"At least he'd have the balls to do that. You? You'll be alone forever."

Fugaku's eyes narrowed. _"No...I already have somebody..."_

Masao's eyes widened suddenly as his son pushed himself up despite the pain, shoving him into the wall for good measure, trying to impede Fugaku's ascent. It was the first time Masao acknowledged how tall his son really was, at sixteen already able to see eye-to-eye, if only physically, with his father. Masao stepped back suddenly as Fugaku moved forward, the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth and the bruise forming beneath his eye going unnoticed, his hair shading his face perfectly.

"Who the Hell could someone like _you_ have?" Masao cocked his head irritably, shoving Fugaku backwards. He stumbled but caught himself suddenly, looking dead into Masao's bottomless black pits of eyes and muttering confidantly, "Mikoto."

-o-

"Fugaku, what happened?" Mikoto asked hurriedly as she ran up to him, lightly touching his cheek as she abandoned her RBA for the sake of his sanity (for once).

"Parkour accident."

"I told you to be careful with that shit, Fu-chan. You're gonna break a bone. Speaking of which, you're limping. The Hell?"

_"Parkour. Accident,"_ he said slowly.

"Still. Be careful. The Hell happens if I lose you?"

"You know, for a twelve-year-old, you have a foul mouth."

"I may be twelve physically, but trust me, I'm more mature than you think."

"You're short," he said quickly.

"Am not!"

Fugaku laughed as they began to walk down the street again like the previous day, Mikoto feeling the longing panging in her chest once again as their hands remained empty.

-o-

Returning home that evening, Mikoto noticed the strange looks Masao-san gave her as she waved and bowed goodnight, returning home, content the day had gone by so well. She considered briefly the option of asking Fugaku out instead of acting like a wuss and opting out every time she thought she could ask. She even weighed the option of kissing him out of nowhere like a shoujou romance, but doubted that it would work with someone like Fugaku.

Someone like Fugaku...she had never met anyone like him before. He was so cold and solemn, studious and intelligent. Incredibly good-looking, that was for sure-and that hair! Mikoto would kill for hair that long. She smiled lightly at the thought of running her hands through the long dark brown locks. Her heart fluttered breifly. She was certain she would tell him one day. Not soon, maybe. But one day.

-o-

"You told him!" Amakko screamed, "How did _you_ find out?"

"Walls are thin, Amakko," Fugaku smirked. "I had a blackmail bit, and I used it to my advantage."

"You fucker!"

"What, you're gonna cry? Are you gonna cry, Amakko?"

"Come here, you bitch!"

Amakko grabbed Fugaku by the front of his shirt, cocking his fist back.

"You hit like a pussy anyways!"

"I'll break your fucking neck-"

"Stoppit! Stoppit!" a shrill voice came from around the corner as something suddenly attached itself to Fugaku's leg, trying to pull him away, small sobs hiccuping from it.

"Go away, Hana-chan. This doesn't concern you," Fugaku said gently without looking down at her, still focused on his older brother.

"Nii-san, no! He hurt you! Then you hit him and everyone be upset!" Hihana cried. Fugaku wrenched himself from Amakko's hold and shoved him into the mantle of their den, kneeling down in front of Hihana and wiping her tears away.

"No, he won't hurt me, Hihana. He can't. Older brother hits like a girl," he smiled as Hihana giggled through her small sobs, her attempt to smile breaking his heart.

"You won't hurt, Nii-san?"

"No, Hihana. I won't hurt him either."

"Get the fuck upstairs, Hihana, I'll beat your-"

"Don't FUCKING TALK TO HER LIKE THAT!" Fugaku bolted upright, smashing Amakko's face into the marble beneath their fireplace, blood spurting from his nose, staining the once-pristince white as Hihana screamed her objections. "NEVER. FUCKING. TALK. TO. HER. LIKE. THAT."

Amakko had lost consciousness long before Fugaku began to beat him relentlessly. Masao had stormed into the room, threatening to call the police, only to have Fugaku retort by promising a long-detailed description of Masao's abuse to said police. Masao only dragged Amakko upstairs, mumbling curses as Hihana stood in shock and fear, blood splattered on Fugaku's shirt front and across his face and hands, her silent tears killing Fugaku as he looked to his little sister. "Hihana, I-"

Suddenly, Takako strode into the room with a calm air about her, her hands folded in front of her as she looked at Hihana, then to the blood in the carpet and on the marble, and then to Fugaku.

"Hihana, I-"

Takako shot Fugaku a cold glare as Hihana yelled, "Mama!" fearfully, running into her arms as Takako's penetrating gaze broke Fugaku down slowly.

Takako shook her head as if to say, "Where did I go wrong with you?" going upstairs with a terrified Hihana in tow. She suddenly stopped on the stairs, though, and looked down at him. "I should've aborted you, Fugaku. I don't know where I went wrong with you, but obviously, somewhere, I did. It's a shame."

"Hi...Hihana, please," Fugaku pleaded as their mother carried her away. "Please! You know me!"

Hihana only recoiled into her mother's cashmere shoulder as she saw her oldest brother's blood on Fugaku's hand.

He could only fall back onto the carpet weakly and watch them disappear up the stairs.

-o-

* * *

><p>AN: First Fugaku elaboration! It was supposed to be so much different than this (Fugaku doing parkour? What in fresh Hell?)

But he just decided to do parkour, I guess. It fit the chapter nicely, I think. Anyways, thank you guys for reading.

...

...

Itachi: Um...Guardian?

Shh, can't you see I'm "...ing" over here?

Itachi: But, you have to-

Itachi, please! This is important! ...

Shisui: For fuck's sake, bro, announce the winner!

Madara: *Beats Shisui in the head with his Uchiwa*

Sasuke: *laughs*

Oh, yeah!

Okay, so, first off, SO MANY THANK YOU'S to everybody who participated! It was fun to read all of your guesses and elaborations on Fugaku~

Unfortunately, there is only _one_ winner. Yeah, I know what you're all thinking. _Lucky bitch._

Just kidding! My writing isn't even that good *Is banished to Fanfic emo corner*

But the winner _iiiiiiiiisssssssssssss..._

DRUMROLL, SHISUI!

Shisui: *Making out with Itachi*

Thank you!

So, the winner is...HAAKU12!

Yayz~

But don't be dismayed! Everyone had incredible answers, a lot more spot on than what I was expecting, actually -was totally taken by surprise!

So, Haaku12, please PM me with the kind of story that you want! I'll be awaiting your fanfic request with bated breath

And so many thank you's again to everyone who participated. I adore you all so much~

And don't forget to review! That pretty little box down there is just begging to be written in. Doesn't matter if you're logged in or not. Or if you even have an account. Seriously not picky.

Love you all~


	25. Forever

The house was so much colder that night than it had been in weeks, maybe even a month. His footsteps echoed and reverberated in his head as he walked around, restless in the night, wandering like a desolate ghost, a meaningless poltergheist with nothing to bother and nobody to trouble. He could swear his breath was visible in slight crystalline forms, hitting the ground and breaking like glass to cut open his feet that wouldn't stop moving for anything. The blanket pulled over his shoulders did almost nothing to alleviate the burning cold. He felt purposeless, utterly useless, like he did when he served a banaustic purpose for his father; a filthy whore and a bragging right of sorts. Utterly useless, in Itachi's opinion.

The echoing began to hurt him, almost, as he felt his heart began to weaken suddenly, wind blowing his hair wildly. Wind? He was indoors! Itachi opened his eyes against the strong gust to see if a window was open, but the only windows in the hallway were never open, and still so. Fear welled in his chest as heat leaked into his abdomen, his knees suddenly going weak as he tasted iron, smelled it, stronger than ever before. Iron and sulfur. A scream. A gunshot. Itachi collapsed. He didn't know who screamed, who was shot, who was bleeding. Who was bleeding? A horrible pain split his forehead as he felt something drip down his face. Dragging himself up the wall, he reached for the bathroom doorknob, pushing it opening it with a shove of his shoulder. He quickly gathered himself, looking into the mirror to see a gapingly obscene bullet wound in his forehead, where Shisui would characteristically poke him if he felt Itachi becoming too cute for his ability to stand it without jumping the feminine teen. Blood dripped from it steadily, making his stomach lurch. Reaching up, Itachi found he could feel nothing but heat radiating from the spot, no blood or upturned skin, no bullet nor wound. He shut his eyes.

_"Not real. Not real. Not real. It's not real, Itachi, get a fucking grip. It's not real. It's not!"_ Itachi looked up, blinking quickly. His eyes began to ache as the facade of a wound began to disappate almost.

_"Figure it out yet?"_ a disembodied voice carried with the gentle breeze past his ears, the indoor zephyr not quite as disturbing as the fact that Itachi had just seen himself shot through the face in the reflection in the mirror, the imaginary bullet traveling through his forehead and hitting the mirror, disappearing behind that too. The splatter wasn't red, however, he noticed. For some reason, the resonance of the bullet was silver and white, with a twinge of violet mixed in the swirling colors. It reminded him of something he painted long ago. He reached out at the transient swirl of colors, perfect to mix together to make a delicate violet, shade a smile, darken sketched eyes. It was solid and liquid against his fingers, and Itachi saw it remain on his fingertips as he began to paint on the mirror, the purple weaving in and out among the white silver. He closed his eyes, wishing he had red as he began to improvise, finding it much more beautiful to bleed purple than red. Crude, sexual, seductive red against calming, quiet, yet proud and impressive violet? Give Itachi the latter any day. The former...he had seen far too much in his short lifetime.

The painting turned out perfectly, as if Itachi had dreamt the process and opened his eyes to its creation. A violent scream resonated in the bathroom and Itachi smirked a satisfied smirk. "Naturally, hm, Mama?" he smiled at the painting of his beautiful mother, violet blood dripping down across the bridge of her delicate nose, blending in with her purple smile, her eyes kind and warm, skin shimmering with silver. Fugaku growled, and the paint melted into black.

"Bleed," he commanded, and Itachi coughed, horrible, crude, sexual red splattering into the sink.

With a satisfied smile, Fugaku turned, walking away through the wall. A burning sensation made itself known in Itachi's throat as he gasped. He looked at the mirror, his mother's face now splattered with blood and a horrified look on her delicate features shocked him. He blinked, shaking his head and narrowing his eyes, practically feeling them spin in their sockets. "It's. Not. Real," he stated, staring until it melted away. He looked into the mirror, commanding, "Stop bleeding!"

Nothing.

The burning continued to go on and Itachi finally realized. He and Shisui had a slight BDSM relationship, naturally. He rushed back into his room he shared with his lover, shaking him awake.

"Nhn...heh...what, 'tachi...?"

"Look me dead in the eyes and command me to stop bleeding!"

"A...are you high?" Shisui snorted slightly in laughter, rubbing his eye.

"Do it! Please, master!"

Shisui was shocked at the use of such a word, but looked his Itamichi in the eye, muttering, "Stop bleeding."

"Mean it!"

"Stop...bleeding?"

"Shisui!"

Shisui suddenly felt his eyes burn, sitting up. "Stop bleeding, Itachi."

The burning feeling alleviated, Itachi grasped his throat in relief, panting thank you's as he hugged Shisui tightly. Shisui only returned the hug, confused and dazed with sleep, falling back into it as Itachi laid him down, going to clean up the sink, confident against Fugaku's abilities now that he knew his failproof fallback. Of course it would be Shisui to save his life yet again. Eternally grateful, Itachi mumbled a quiet _"Thank you,"_ as he cleaned away the blood. About to return to his room, he felt the wind again, saying aloud, "You can't hurt me." It was carried away, only to have a hand grip Itachi's elbow suddenly. He turned with a gasp to see Madara, a slash wound on his cheek marring his bloodless skin, a terrified look in his eyes.

"Itachi," he said carefully, "Tell me what happened to Fugaku and Mikoto."

-o-

"Good God..." Madara rubbed his temples soothingly. "And Mikoto-"

"I never meant to do it."

"You were a bit hystarical..."

Itachi nodded silently. "I couldn't...rationalize..."

"People with your disease-"

"Disease?"

"Well, you were diagnosed with-"

"Who gives a fuck what I was diagnosed with? Diagnosis is often times wrong. Sasuke was 'Diagnosed' with manic-depression. He's a perfectly normal child. There's no need for him to take medicine, _especially_ at his age."

"Some need it."

"He doesn't. I don't."

"Itachi, please, be rational. You just said you do tend to get hystarical-"

"No. I was seven years old when Father had me on Ritalin. That's where it started. It just escalated from there. Soon, I took medicine to couteract the effects of other medicines. Madara, none of that is right. I am perfectly fine. Normal. Sane."

"You killed your parents."

"I had every reason to," Itachi stated simply.

"Even your mother?"

"She wanted to die."

"...I...Itachi."

"No. Haven't you seen her wrists? If her body was whole, I would dig it up and show it to you. But Mama always wanted to be cremated," a dark flash of remorse and adoration flashed in Itachi's eyes as he swallowed. "I saw the scars. The pills she swallowed. The sadness and darkness even behind her brilliant smile. I think I knew her better than you, Uncle Madara, since you decided to go absentee on your family."

"You knew where to find me."

"Ever since Hashirama broke your heart you distanced yourself from us. We didn't want to find you because you were too far gone. This chance to return you to our lives seems to be dwindling, honestly. I killed him. And her. You wanna call me insane, lock me in an asylum, go ahead. But don't touch Sasuke. And don't touch Shisui."

A protective look made itself known in Itachi's eyes as he stared down at his great uncle. Madara only sighed. "Itachi, I wouldn't dream of turning you in for anything. If anything, I do understand. But you understand that when you were medicated, you could think rationally? You were always calm, never as wild as you are now."

"Wild! Fuck you! I was a fucking zombie! That deadness I felt? All medicine-induced. Do you think I wanted to be put on 800 milligrams so I couldn't smile? Sure, I was what everyone else wanted, but what about me? I didn't want that anymore. I don't want it! I want to be me. I want to have a personality, and not just be considered the perfect little Uchiha heir. I want to be Itachi! Not _Uchiha_ Itachi! I want to feel impassioned and angry and upset and happy and loving and hateful and spiteful and sad! Not a monotonous plane of grey. I want to see colors beyond the visible spectrum. I wanna live. I want to live."

Madara watched as Itachi stalked off to bed. He blinked slowly, taking in everything Itachi had said tediously, remembering every word. "Monotonous...?"

-o-

A Celexa in hand, Madara sat perched on the bed, remembering Itachi's words. He placed the pill back in the bottle and relaxed into the pillows, pulling the covers over his head.

_"Hashirama...what the Hell am I doing?"_ he whispered helplessly as he missed his first dosage in twenty-five years.

-o-

Each little pluck drew out another strand of the suture as Madara undid the stitches to Sasuke's healed arm. The scar was nasty, but not as bad as it could have been. Madara smiled at the clean line, disposing of the suture and turning to Sasuke. "It's fine now. It shouldn't hurt. If it does, just take half of one of the capsules, okay?"

Sasuke nodded, hugging his relative gratefully. "I thought I was gonna lose my arm!"

Madara laughed. "I wouldn't let that happen."

"Do you really have to leave tomorrow?" Sasuke asked sadly.

"Yes. Unfortunatly, Akaboshi won't make it much longer unless I get home. That cat is lonlier than I am, I swear."

Sasuke smiled slightly.

"However, I would love to have you up at the estate sometime. You'd love it, Sasuke. A huge lake, lots of land. Much better than this depressing place you call home," Madara teased, glancing up at Itachi, who only rolled his eyes with a barely-concealed smirk.

"It's not depressing. Depressing things have medicine. Home is perfect, 'cause 'tachi-nii and Shisui-nii are here. It isn't depressing."

Madara smiled calmly. "There really is no place like home, is there?"

Sasuke shook his head.

-o-

Madara leaned against the wall outside, smoking a cigarette langorously, not liking the occasional habit he had taken up but tolerating it, smoking less than a pack a week as he saw no need to. He noticed, however, his youngest nephew sitting at the crooked Bonzai-like tree in the front yard with a book of kana tables in his lap, squinting at the rough bark curiously. Madara ventured over, kneeling beside Sasuke as he pointed and searched.

"You won't figure out what it means that way," he stated simply.

"What's it mean, Uncle Madara?" Sasuke looked up to the long-haired doctor as he blew smoke from his mouth.

"It says 'Hashirama and Madara.' That means forever."

"Oh! It's Kanji right there, and then that's-wait! Your name?"

Madara only nodded and Sasuke couldn't help himself. "Why?"

"Hashirama was my husband for twenty years."

Sasuke gaped. "That's, like, forever! What happened?"

"He broke my fuckin' heart, Sasuke," Madara stated through a haze of smoke. "Left me. For some redhead with an ugly hairstyle and tradition carved in her wretched face. Said he wanted kids. I did too, but he didn't want a surrogate. Adoption, either. Went and died some odd years later," Madara flicked his ashes into the lawn, glancing back to the tree coldly.

"But..." Sasuke silently counted on his fingers. "You have to be at least fourty, then, Uncle Madara!"

Madara conceded with a nod, a distant look in his obsidian eyes. "Do you still love him?"

Pulling the cigarette away from his mouth, he blew smoke silently. After a while he said quietly, "Yes."

"..." Sasuke looked up at Madara with Honesty. "How old _are_ you, Uncle Madara?"

"...Old as dirt," he mumbled, aloof.

-o-

"What happened to you and Uncle Hashirama, Uncle Madara?"

Madara paused slightly, a bitter taste in his mouth. He looked down to Sasuke, who's head lay in his lap as he curled up in a fleece blanket as he gazed up at him with raw curiosity burning in the shining black irises of his youngest nephew.

Shisui looked over his shoulder from the recliner near the fire, Itachi pausing in his reading as he glanced up, curled up neatly in the armchair close to the mantle.

"After we got married, we moved here. We lived here for all twenty years of our lives together. When she was thirteen, your mother came to live with us because her father had died and her mother went a bit crazy. She went to the asylum and Mikoto came to live with us. It made Hashirama want a child of his own. I claimed that Mikoto was our child now, but he got a bit selfish. He left with Mito, or whatever the _fuck_ her name was," Sasuke noted the spite in his voice as he flicked ashes into the tray on the side table, "And as soon as Mikoto was engaged to Fugaku, I gave them the house as a marriage gift. I walked her down the isle, saw her a few more times after you and Itachi were born, and that was it."

"Do you regret not being able to carry children, Madara?" Shisui asked curiously.

"All the time. I think things would have been so much different if I was female. But it doesn't matter. Life isn't for regrets. You only live once."

"In your case, you practically live forever, so you have all the room for mistakes that you want, Madara," Itachi pointed out smartly, drawing a few laughs around the room as Ichabod hopped up beside Madara, nudging his hand for attention.

"True. Very true. That's why I guess I never let it go."

After a few minutes of relaxing silence, Sasuke spoke up. "Uncle Madara, you don't even look thirty. How old are you?"

Uncle Madara gave him a curious glance, blinking slowly. "Old."

-o-

Dropping the small pill back into the bottle, Madara relaxed comfortably into the matress, almost surprised at the small smile he drifted away with as the naturality of sleep washed over him, his head clear and his chest light for the first time in fourty-five years.

-o-

A full bottle in his suitcase, Madara noted on the train ride home that the grass was so much greener, for once, on his side as he smiled langorously, watching the countryside roll by, broken promises stored away beneath that tree that he was leaving behind for a second time, this time with no regrets.

-o-

* * *

><p>AN: Let me just say real quick that I have no qualms against anyone who does take prescription drugs for _any_ sort of thing. Been there, done that. When I was twelve I was diagnosed with childhood schizophrenia, insomnia, and bipolar disorder, and subsequently put on Geodon. Shortly after, I got tired of my mom watching me like a hawk every time I had to take my medicine, tired of waking up and not being able to open my eyes from the drowsiness that it caused (Which made my mother yell at me to "wake up" in the morning on the way to school. BTW, your fault "MOMMY"), tired of the feelings of a flat plane of absolute grey, absolute nothingness when I desired, more than anything, to reach a distant color that I wasn't allowed to reach.

I began to skip dosages and feel so happy, airy and light and utterly weightless, like the "highs" of manic-depression multiplied, feel as if I was loved and cared for and began to disregard what everyone in the world thought of me and become my own person.

One day, I simply declared to my mother that I was not going to take Geodon anymore. That I didn't need it. That I was a person, not a statistic and not a goldmine for a corrupted medical field that I had once desired to be a part of. Now I'm an aspiring artist (Disregard the crap that I make on Deviantart, I can do a lot better, I swear.), singer, video game designer, and author. Of course, I may just choose the first and last two and begin a manga on the side, but I don't know yet what I'll do. The possibilities are endless when you aren't weight down by chemicals telling you you aren't alright.

You don't need medicine for "Mental issues", people. You need willpower and strength, backed with a few good friends, an outlet, and a desire to succeed. Trust me, most of the time, you're better off without it.

Love you all~

From Guardian, who is now over four years off of those horrible chemicals~

Grasp your freedom, all I'm saying.


	26. The Ninth Circle

Keep reading the Author's note at the end for a special bonus mini-chapter~

* * *

><p>"LET ME GO! GET THE FUCK OFF ME! I'M NOT FUCKING CRAZY!"<p>

"No, of course you aren't. Just, please. Be rational and come wtih us, okay?"

His head whipped around as he spat in the man's face, screaming curses at him as he jerked out of another's grip just before a syringe could plunge into his arm. A roundhouse kick to the hand that brought the needle down, a bare foot down on the cylinder, liquid on the grass.

"You! This is low for even _you_!"

A simple glance. Absence of concern. A scream for a brother. Snarling and fighting. An effort well wasted.

He woke up the next morning in Hell.

-o-

A nervous swipe of tongue along a row of straight, white teeth. A painting on the wall. Hands in restraints.

Blood pouring from the corner of a man's eyes in the painting.

"Can you tell me who this man is?"

"Might as well be you," was the answer, with the impatient cock of a head.

"That isn't very nice. You need to be honest. Why did you paint this?"

"That? Was practice. You got that from the back of the closet, didn't you?"

"That was not the question."

"They got you from the back of the closet, too, then, I'm assuming."

The man in white looked impatient. He did, too.

-o-

"He hasn't eaten anything in a week."

"Weight has dropped by 4.54 kilograms. Refuses to cooperate. Has been sent to isolation twelve times in the duration of his stay. He's suffering from severe psychosis, it seems."

"Okay. Put him on..."

He tuned out as he planned ways to escape, staring at the window quietly.

-o-

"You have to behave if you're gonna get out."

"I DON'T-"

"Woah, wait, wait, cool it, Somang. I know. She knows, we all know. You just have to play along," he leaned into the inpatient's ear and whispered something about tongues and hiding. The patient nodded slowly, a familiar glaze icing over his eyes. He smiled for the first time in two months, caught on camera.

"See you soon."

With a confidant nod, the patient was escorted off to group therapy.

-o-

"Do you want to share?"

"No."

The doctor's eyebrows furrowed, but she smiled kindly anyways. "Now, dear, don't you think it would be beneficial to share why you're recieving help?"

An ironic smile nearly burst onto his face. He knew an oppertunity when he saw it. _Rile them up_, he remembered.

"I painted a few pictures depicting ways to die, most of them centered around getting over the loss together. With others. Much like this group therapy, don't you think?"

Suddenly, a few of the other patients looked a bit outraged.

"We are in here for such pointless stuff!"

"They put ME in because I had a bad fuckin' day at school!"

"So I crave attention from older men, doesn't mean I have to be fucking incarcereated!"

"This shit is rediculous!"

Before a riot could erupt, they were escorted back to their rooms, a natural high flooding the youngest's chest as he breathed contently.

-o-

"My brother can cook better than this, you know," he stated to the nurse coldly.

The nurse gave him an almost sympathetic smile. "Do you miss him?"

Shocked, he simply nodded.

"Yeah. I hate it here, seeing people like you that have no buisness being here. And the food _does_ suck. Tell you what," the patient just noticed that the nurse had a tongue piercing, "If you're good and get out of isolation for a week, I'll bring you something special. Until then, eat something. You're skin and bone."

He nodded again, dumbfounded.

-o-

Quietly popping another french fry into his mouth, he listened as the nurse spoke to him softly. "Can you talk to me at least?"

His eyebrow twitching, he swallowed and muttered, "Are you wired?"

"They said you had psychosis!" she laughed good-naturedly, noticing he wasn't upset by the assumption. She simply unbuttoned the front of her white uniform, undoing it rather low. "Nowhere to hide a wire on me."

She noticed how politely his eyes were adverted, reserved to her neck and clavicles. "You have somebody at home."

"Somebody I'm waiting to get home to."

-o-

"We'll have to forcefeed you if you don't comply, Mr.-"

"Eat shit, keep your nasty food to yourself. That poor excuse for nutrition is unconsumable garbage. I refuse to eat it."

Then we'll have to-"

The patient looked dead into the doctor's eyes.

Nobody quite understood why he quit the next day.

-o-

The assistants came in to red staining the walls and sheets, the prick of the needle from where they drew blood now gouged open as the patient smiled.

"Your mistake," his nurse mumbled behind them with a new change of sheets.

-o-

"No more fast food for you, it's turning you into a psychopath!" she laughed.

He did too.

-o-

His nurse was fired a week before he was released.

A relapse occured two days after that.

A recovery the next day as a skipped-dosage enduced dream reminded him of what he had to do.

-o-

A week later, he was surprised to see her there, an eyebrow piercing fresh below her now purple and blue hairline, tight black jeans and a "God Save the Queen" tee-shirt donning her now natural looking body. She was talking to a teen with curly brown hair and a nose piercing. He was wearing normal clothes for the first time in months, and felt odd to be approaching the lobby again for the last time.

"Congratulations, Itachi," the nurse smiled, a bag of fast food in one hand donned with multiple rings. "You survived the first eight rings of Hell. Think you can make it through the ninth?" she cocked her head towards the glass-paned door, revealing a bright summer day, birds in the trees and bright sunlight burning his eyes. He winced visibly, his eyes watering at the prospect, at the scent of real, if not unhealthy food, the sight of Shisui standing there in the cold white lobby.

"We have to get out of here," he said suddenly as he stared straight ahead, running out through the doors, letting them slam open, almost expecting the beautiful outdoors to burst into more painful, devestating white. The reality of it hit him as he stared straight at the sun, shocked.

"I never did get your name," Shisui turned to the tall nurse-turned-rocker.

"Kimsong," she smiled. "Call me Kimmi."

-o-

"Well, Itachi," Kimmi said after a swallow of soda washing down the rest of her burger, "This is where our paths end in knowing eachother, for all I know. Fate may have a different story but until then, it was nice knowing you."

Itachi nodded quietly, noticing suddenly, "You're pregnant?"

She laughed. "You're too insightful, Itachi. Yeah. I am. Maybe one day we'll meet again, you know?"

Itachi blinked twice, mumbling, "Thank you."

"No. Thank you. You sure know how to change people, Itachi. I thought I was gonna restrain myself in that place forever."

Itachi watched as her motorcycle sped off into the distance, deciding that one day he would own one too, if only to remember her, and if only to grasp his freedom.

-o-

"Nii-san! Nii-san!" Sasuke yelled six years later.

"What is it, Sasuke?" Itachi said as he put down his AP calculus book, looking down at his smiling brother.

"I made a new friend today! A best friend!"

"Really? What's her name?"

Itachi's eyebrows widened in surprise when he yelled, "Kimmi!"

-o-

Itachi woke with a jolt as his phone, kept conveniently beneath his pillow, began to vibrate.

"Madara" read across the LCD screen benignly. Itachi hit "Open."

"From: Madara

Thank you.

Recieved: Mon, Sep 17, 4:13 am"

"To: Madara

For what?

Sent: Mon, Sep 17, 4:14 am"

"From: Madara," Itachi read the note underneath his breath, recognition hitting him suddenly. "I don't know how to change people, Madara...they just tend to change around me."

* * *

><p>AN: Seems unimportant, but it matters in later chapters, trust me. A little shout-out to my best friend in the world, Kimmi (A.K.A. Lynnetheintelligentnobody on here, AMAZING authoress), who was actually mentioned in a previous, recent chapter if you look close. But you gotta squint. I'll give you a hint: Itachi is talking about friends.

So yeah. This story is actually getting painfully close to ending. My heart is breaking just thinking about it. It'll stretch past thirty chapters, but it's unlikely that it'll go past fourty...(-Is so depressed at the notion)

But yeah, the Korean up there (See: Somang) is another one of Shisui's many pet-names for his psycho little crow-haired beauty. Means "Dearest." or "Darling." I'm confusing Somang and Songjuhan, I know that.

Anyways, enjoy~

Reviews make Itachi get out of Hell faster!

And YAY for the first Dante's Inferno reference in here! There was actually going to be another one, but that's actually going to be BELOW!

* * *

><p>"So, do you know how Uncle Hashirama died, Uncle Madara?" Sasuke asked curiously as they lay in the front lawn lazily, Ichabod curled up between them as he reveled in the attention of the two Uchiha.<p>

"No. He could've gone and killed himself for all I care. Would've explained why he's so obsessed with trees."

In the distance, they heard Shisui's voice in a quick, hilarious, "HA!"

* * *

><p>Threw that in for fun. Hope you enjoyed~<p>

As always, Guardian.


	27. Crickets

He felt the hands on his arms, the lips on his throat, the anger in the words, but didn't _feel _it. He felt detatched. Aloof. Drifting in a momentary lucidity that made him ache distantly, a pang that couldn't bother him yet. He felt the aching between his legs and the contracting around his throat. He felt the hands squeeze so tight he could make out the fingerprints on his neck. But didn't _feel_ it, as if the person who was doing this yet again couldn't hurt him this time. He felt invincible, but not in a good way. What had happened? Was he already dead? Did he already fail?

...Was this purgatory? Were God and Satan fighting over his tainted soul? Or were they simply discussing all of his wrongs in his short life? Were they laughing? Was he the catalyst to reunite God with his archangel? He didn't know. Don't ask him. He was just drifting. Alone. Numb. Numb and alone...and utterly useless.

He thought of how alone he was. Who was absent from his life? He couldn't count the names. He couldn't even remember. All he knew was that they were gone. They weren't coming back. But it wasn't hurting him yet.

Suddenly, the hands squeezed tighter and he couldn't breathe. Before, he could hear nothing. Now the sound was rushing back, like a tape in reverse, and he felt his bare back against a bed, his wrists chafing, his lungs contracting, trying desperately to suck in air, try and breathe. He heard someone laugh. His shoulder hurt. It began to bleed. His vision was fading. Who was above him? What were they holding?

A knife plunged into his neck with a disgusting noise, being dragged down, the resistance only slowing the agonizing process. He couldn't scream with the hand around his throat. He couldn't even breathe as his ribs were cracked and his innards were laid open to the air. He felt his blood beating its way from his body, his heart beating out of his chest, his lungs shrivling from the lack of oxygen. He felt it reach his stomach, the knife, his liver, stomach, everything gurgling as the acids burned his flayed flesh, the ripped tendons hanging disturbingly as the shreds of his skin fell, burning from the sheer pain as it danced from spot to spot instead of agonizing one area. He tried to scream again. Maybe if he screamed, he would feel better. Maybe he could make his throat hurt and everything else wouldn't be so bad? He tried it. No oxygen. No control over his diapgragm when it was in two. His trachea, too. His esophagus. It was all so useless. So painfully useless. How was he supposed to stop this? Why wouldn't it stop? He had to figure it out. Why? He had to figure it out. That horrible being that did this leaned down to his face, smirking. He could feel the smirk as a bitter, ironically tender kiss was pressed to the tip of his nose. Again. It was rough. And repetative. He felt the world begin to melt away, the pain dulling suddenly, though gradually. He felt his innards coming together again, stitching themselves back up as his skin melted into the frayed ends perfectly, like a puzzle.

_Stoppit, Poe..._ he thought absently, swatting at his nose. _Poe, no. I have to figure it out...I can't play now. Poe, stop! Now!_

A gasping breath brought Itachi back to reality, panting heavily as he tried to make up for lost oxygen, tears spilling from his eyes as he shot up, holding his throat, coughing and choking on nothing. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to make it stop. The burning sensation in his throat was making tears leak from his eyes uncontrollably. He felt his lungs working hard. _Harder!_ he urged, _I can't breathe!_

A worried meow stirred him out of his hyperventilation, his gradual attempt to regain lost oxygen. Itachi looked down beside him, muttering hoarsly, _"Poe?"_

A flick of a long black tail and a twitch of a torn ear alerted him otherwise. _"Oh...Ichabod."_

The cat meowed, nudging his hand in acknowledgement. He smiled sadly. "Hi...boy," Itachi scratched behind Ichabod's ear, listening to the appreciative purr. "You knew I was having a nightmare, didn't you?" he stroked down the black cat's back, chuckling quietly as Ichabod arched his back, meowing slightly. He jumped off the bed and nudged his way out of the cracked door. Itachi looked strangely at the door, only to see Shisui come through with a tray.

"Morning, Itachi. You don't look so good..." Shisui set the tray down on the side table and felt Itachi's forehead, sitting down on the bed as he leaned in close. "Were you crying?"

"No...I know it sounds like a lie, but I wasn't."

"I believe you," he said simply, handing Itachi two capsules. "Vitamins."

"They aren't helping," Itachi rolled his eyes.

"Why must you be so negative?" Shisui laughed. "Yeah they are. Your hair reaches to the end of your back now. It's so pretty," the older teen stroked Itachi's hair, running his fingers through the long tresses, watching the silky strands fall from his hand as he moved it away. "You're so pretty."

Itachi only rolled his eyes, pulling his knees to his chest. "Am not," he returned, reaching for a piece of bacon sitting enticingly on the plate.

"Ah, ah, ah, Itamichi," Shisui took it from him, instead holding it to the younger teen's lips.

Another eyeroll, this time accompanied with a slight smile. "Of course."

He opened his mouth anyways.

-o-

Itachi inhaled deeply as he walked out into the cold morning, his breath making itself known in crystallized shimmers as he exhaled. He glanced over to Mikoto's garden, the peonies bright red and luring him over like a fish to brightly-colored bait. He sat down in front of a mound of dirt among them, a stone marker laying conspicuously, elegantly morose.

"Hey, Poe..." Itachi mumbled quietly, swallowing hard. He felt tears stinging his eyes. "...I...don't...really know what to say right now. I feel so...bad. So aching. I miss you. Desperately. You were my Poe. My pretty girl. I've had you for so long. And suddenly...you're just gone. Because of him..._him_. You never did like him. I remember when you bit him so hard he bled after he hit me once. He locked you outside in the rain. And remember how you snuck up to my window, somehow? I let you in. You were soaked and upset, but at least you didn't get sick. Right? And Ichabod curled up to you and we fell asleep at three in the morning. How old was I...? How old were you, for that matter? I can't remeber you aging, really. I always see you as you were. Pretty and sleek, intelligent and quiet and so, so beautiful...I'm going to make it right, Poe. I promise. I'll find some way to destroy him. I know what I have to do just to fight him..." Itachi's voice trailed off as he rubbed his forehead dazedly, "But..." he picked up, "I don't know how to go about it. Wouldn't it upset Shisui and Sasuke? That's what I'm really afraid of. Hurting them. Would they miss me? I don't even know. I just need to...need to..." Itachi sighed. "I don't know what I have to do. What do I do, Poe? I want to make things right! I want to avenge...everything. My childhood. What's left of my psyche. My sanity. I have to regain it somehow. I feel so desolate. Like I'm complacent. Controlled. I just..."

Suddenly, the bushes began to rustle gently as a black kitten popped its head out, striding clumbsily over to the small placemarker and rubbing its tiny head over it, purring loudly for a kitten. Itachi blinked, holding out his hand despite his suspicion that the kitten would run away. Instead, though, the feline juvinile rubbed its soft black fur along Itachi's scarred knuckles, nibbling gently before pulling away, running back into the bushes. Confused, Itachi looked over his shoulder to see Ichabod sitting in the window, his golden eyes watching closely like a warden. It struck him.

"I have to push them away, Poe. I have to cut all ties with them...but...can I do that?"

He shook his head defiantly. "I have to. Thank you, Poe," he muttered, standing, turning to go into the house. As he entered the doorway, he noticed Ichabod staring out of the window distantly, still. "Leave that kitten alone, Icky," Itachi said sternly. "He didn't do anything."

Ichabod gave a slow, complacent blink, hopping down off of the sill. Itachi took the crickets from the pantry, unscrewing the lid and setting one free. Ichabod pinned it quickly and ripped its head off with a sickening crunch. Itachi gave a quirked smile, content in watching his pet dismantle the creature. "Good boy..." he cooed, continuing on into the living room.

"Nii-san!" Sasuke chirped as Itachi came in, a Dualshock controller in his hand. "Play with me!"

Itachi gave Sasuke an apprasing look. "Sorry, Sasuke. Maybe next time."

Sasuke scowled a bit. "Why?"

"I have to go look something up. I don't have time for this today."

"Nii-san, why do you talk to Poe's grave?"

"I don't, Sasuke. I talk to Poe."

Sasuke watched as Itachi ascended the stairs, wondering silently if his older brother had lost it or something. He shrugged. "Shisui, play with me!"

* * *

><p>AN: Kind of a short chapter, but good enough to break me of my horrible writer's block. Many thanks, again, to my saviour, Kimmi! Who has saved me yet again with assisting me in the horrid battle of me vs. my writer's block. My muselessness is killing me softly...~

Anyways...yeah. Enjoy, I suppose! The new chapter of For All You Disregard will be out by the end of the week. I have it written down, i just need to type it up and post it...but I happened to do this first.

For every review I get, Ichabod gets a cricket! And Ichabod likes crickets. Don't you like Ichabod? Won't you give him a cricket?


	28. Distance

Itachi threw one leg over his motorcycle, starting it up, the engine roaring to life in the cold of the air. The growling of the bike was cold and numb and Itachi couldn't really hear it anyways, the grey of the morning sedating and anesthetized.

"Nii-san, where are you going? Can I come?"

Itachi's eyes widened slightly. Apparently, Sasuke had heard the motorcycle start, running outside in time to see Itachi pull on his leather jacket, helmet inbetween his theighs. "Maybe next time, Sasuke," Itachi poked Sasuke's forehead apologetically, backing out of the driveway and taking off down the road, leaving Sasuke behind in a fog of exhaust.

-o-

The river was calm and cold, the wind frigid as fog settled sparsely, lightly over the bank. Itachi pulled his leather jacket closer around his shoulders, sighing out a visible breath. He felt the freezing wind on the nape of his neck, shivering, bringing thoughts of that room, of his father to his iced-over mind.

_God, it was cold._

"I knew I'd find you here."

Itachi didn't look up, hearing the click of a lighter as a cigarette was lit between familiar lips. Sucking in a drag through the filter, Shisui absently blew a stream of grey smoke into the air, settling down beside the long-haired teen. "You kinda left Sasuke in the dust."

"What are you doing here?" was all Itachi offered as response.

"..." Shisui took another contemplative drag, thinking. He began to speak, but stopped himself, as if unsure.

Suddenly, "Why are you isolating yourself, Itachi? You're becoming so..." Shisui's nose scrunched up a bit. _"Distant._..You lie compulsively, even when you know I know the truth. You barely give your little brother the time of day, don't even pay attention to him, Hell, you don't even pet Ichabod anymore! I moved in to be with you. Not to have you isolate yourself from us. What is this about? Fugaku? You want him to think you don't like us anymore so he'll stop bothering us or something? Because let me tell you, Itachi Asako Uchiha, it hurts a _Hell_ of a lot more to have you ifnore us. You..." Shisui raked a hand through his hair, taking a drag and expellingt the smoke, taking a breath. "...you always do this. You always try and fight your own battles when you have an army at your disposal! Don't be stupid, Itachi. I know you're not. You _know_ I'm here to fight beside you. Against _anything!_ It's what I wanna do, so don't restrict me from doing so...Just tell me how I can help."

Itachi muttered weakly, _"I have to die, Shisui."_

"What?" Shisui blinked in confusion as Itachi lifted his head suddenly, hair falling from his shoulder.

"I have to _die_, Shisui, he wants me to die!" Itachi's voice trembled as he swallowed hard, staring at the icy river.

They sat in silence for a while after that, neither speaking as the reality of the situation washed over them like the frigid water slowly consuming the bank.

"Well..." Shisui said after a while, "...fuck."

To his surprise, Itachi snorted in laughter, looking at Shisui incredulously. "Really?"

Shisui laughted too, hitting Itachi on the arm lightly, recieving a shove in return. Back and forth it went between them as if they were children until Itachi shoved Shisui hard, standing quickly, only pausing to laugh at his best friend laying in the tall, dewy grass. He began to dart away until a hand wrapped around his ankle, catching Itachi off-guard and taking advantage as he hit the ground, his leather jacket breaking the fall. Shisui crawled over the long-haired teen, pinning the pretty crow with his knees on either side of Itachi's theighs, his hands beside Itachi's head as he watched the crow laugh, disolving in mirth as the smiling pink lips flushed and parted in happiness, his breath coming out in crystallized clouds with each exhalation, a light flush beneath the happy crescents, those perfect butterfly eyelashes making fluttering shadows on those lovely cheekbones. Shisui smiled langurously at the sight as Itachi opened his eyes, wrapping his arms around Shisui's neck. Shisui fell to the side to lay equally with his pretty lover, the wet, freezing grass tickling their faces as Shisui pulled Itachi impossibly close, the both of them smiling as they pressed their foreheads together, the tips of their noses brushing lightly, cutely. Itachi sighed contently, lacing his arms through Shisui's to pull him closer, if possible. He felt Shisui's lips on his neck and smiled lightly, running his fingers through Shisui's hyacinth hair as they lay among the dismal, grey fog, the only color reflecting in Shisui's smile.

-o-

"Where's Sasuke?" Itachi glanced around as they entered the house.

"I brought him to Kimmi's before I found you."

Itachi smiled fondly. "She liked my paintings," he mumbled softly.

"Everybody loved your paintings..." Shisui assured. "...besides Fugaku," he added as an afterthought, elicting a light laugh from the teen.

"He sent me to an asylum for them, Shisui, of course he didn't like them. In fact, _like_ is a nice word for it."

Shisui snorted in laughter, pulling Itachi down with him on the couch. "You should start painting again."

"Imagine what he'd do to me this time," Itachi rolled his eyes as he allowed Shisui to pull him back onto the couch, laying his head against Shisui's shoulder.

Shisui kissed the top of Itachi's head, wrapping an arm around Itachi's thin waist. "So...how is dying gonna help us beat him?"

"I don't know. All I know is that I have to 'fight him on his own level' or something. He wants me to kill myself. Shoot myself in the head, like I did him."

"Jesus Christ..." Shisui mumbled. "You're not gonna do that. No way in Hell...right?"

"How else am I gonna beat him?"

"..." Shisui remained silent as Itachi combed his fingers through Shisui's soft, curly hair, smiling. "You don't have to beat him, you know."

"He'll hurt you-"

"It doesn't bother me-"

"And Sasuke," Itachi finished. "And Ichabod."

Shisui rolled his eyes, kissing the top of Itachi's head. "We can-"

"I am _not_ moving in with Uncle Madara."

"What's wrong with Uncle Madara?" Shisui questioned.

"Did you know he used to dress me like a girl when I was younger? Because he wanted a granddaughter!"

Shisui examined Itachi's face for any sign of joking. When he found none, he burst out laughing. "Is that why he calls you 'effeminant nephew?!"

"..." Itachi grumbled, "...yes."

"Nice," Shisui snorted in laughter. "That's great."

Itachi sighed. "I'm surprised he didn't show you pictures."

"He has _pictures_?!"

"I swear to God..."

-o-

"Shisui-nii! Tadai wa!" Sasuke called as he came inside, closing the door behind himself, only to hear "Okairi" in return from none other than Itachi.

"Oh...hi, Nii-san..." he returned quietly, eyes downcast.

"...Come here, Sasuke," Itachi coaxed gently, reaching his hand out to the child, who walked over hesitantly to his older brother, only to be pulled into his embrace. "I'm sorry I've been neglecting you, Sasuke. A lot has been going on. But there's no excuse...Forgive me?" Itachi poked Sasuke in the forehead playfully, smiling at the scowl he recieved, replacing the site of abuse with a gentle kiss.

"It's okay, Ani...as long as we get to be together once and a while."

Itachi nodded lightly, running his fingers through the feathery black locks that fluttered behind Sasuke's head, kissing his forehead again. "I love you, Outoutou."

"Love you, too, Ani..."

-o-

Itachi went to check his email that night, expecting nothing but realizing he had not checked it since the whole ordeal began. Everything else was pretty basic. Spam was deleted, updates from various things checked. But the last email subject made his heart skip a beat, his palms going sweaty in fear.

-o-

A/N: I am so sorry for the Hellaciously long wait for this chapter...No excuse. No excuse at all. All I can offer for appeasement is the fact that I have been flooded with over twenty story ideas in the past week and AP classes have been kicking my ass. ^_^" But I've had the chapter written for a while. It just needed to be edited.

The last part of this chapter wasn't originally there, believe it or not. But I spent my time inbetween paragraphs reading CreepyPastas...FML, is the scariest picture I've ever seen.

So...yeah. Enjoy!

And tell me what you think! Um...reviews...eh...I'm running out of these.

Oh! Lemons in the future chapters if I get reviews . . Do it~

Love from the Nakano~


	29. Stop

"School is starting back soon," Itachi mumbled as he checked the calander.

"I don't _wanna_ go back to school, nii-san!" Sasuke cried.

"Yeah, I don't _wanna_ go back to school, Nii-san," Shisui called from the living room as he lounged on the couch, prompting Itachi to, with pinpoint accuracy, peg Shisui with the nearest book.

"Sasuke, school is important and you're going. What would Mama think? And you don't wanna end up like Shisui, do you?"

Itachi deftly avoided the book that came flying back, a sly smile on his features. "And _you_ have to take the graduation test, too, Shisu. I'm gonna take it early."

"A whole grade early, 'tachi?" Shisui ambled into the kitchen, rubbing his neck tiredly.

"There's no point in staying at school. It's dull and frankly a waste of time."

Shisui kissed Itachi's temple gently, cooing, "So smart, 'tachi." His nose nuzzled into Itachi's jaw as Shisui smiled, muttering, "I'm gonna get you for the book, too, Cara Mia."

"Nii-san, what does 'Cara Mia' mean?" Sasuke asked curiously as he ducked down to pick up Ichabod, who had just wandered by. Sasuke watched his older brother smile lightly as he scratched behind the cat's ears.

"Ask in Italian, Sasuke," Itachi encouraged.

"Wait! Um..._perche_?"

"That's 'why', Squirt," Shisui flicked Sasuke in the forehead playfully. "Nice try, though."

"Ow! Dumb Shisui...um...Che cosa...sig...nifica?"

Itachi gave a proud smile and answered, "It means 'My Beloved', outoutou. Very good!"

"Oh..." was all Sasuke offered in response, blushing lightly at the enthusiastic praise from his usually quiet brother.

"Are we doing anything today?" Itachi asked Shisui, glancing up at the older male's visage affectionately.

"Not that I know of..." Shisui mumbled. "Why?" Shisui backed Itachi into the wall, pinning him with his hips, leaning in close to Itachi's petal-colored lips. "Up for some hot mid-day sex to the Red Hot Chili Peppers?"

Itachi blanched, his cheeks suddenly flaring as he pushed Shisui away. "Sasuke is right there!"

Sasuke clamped his hands over his ears, leaving Ichabod to gravity's mercy, the cat scrambling to his feet indignantly. Itachi sighed.

"Go look up your school supply list on my computer, Sasuke. We're going shopping today."

Sasuke chimed his consent, darting upstairs. The remaining teens sat in contemplative silence for a bit when Shisui gave Itachi a suggestive look.

Itachi only pushed Shisui away, mumbling smartly, "Nobody backs Baby in a corner."

-o-

Itachi wandered the empty halls like a restless poltergheist, anxiety gnawing at his stomach like a bad case of nausea. Something drew him to keep walking the corridors, but he couldn't quite tell what it was. It was painfully cold, eating at his bones steadily, mercilessly.

The sound of something stirring brought him out of his cold-induced reverie, stopping. A pencil rolled down the hallway umprompted, stopping at his feet benignly. He didn't know _why_, but he wanted to pick it up. _Needed_ to. He reached for it.

His fingers closed around the cheap plastic and suddenly he fell forward, the cheap plastic splintering into his palm sharply, drawing out a surprised, pained cry from the long-haired teen. Itachi felt his jaw smash against the wood and opened his eyes slowly, dazed. He glanced around.

_Who is that?_ Itachi noticed a mirror in front of himself, a teen about his age with long brown hair cascading loosely over his shoulders staring back with the same surprised expression, same position on the ground. He blinked. The echo blinked. Itachi reached out and touched the surface, their fingertips meeting for a breif moment before the mirror began to ripple, undulating like a suspended wall of liquid. Suddenly, it broke, shattering with a wretched scream, making Itachi clamp his ears against the noise, grinding his teeth. The figure in the mirror now stood before him, hair falling down his back, dressed in heavy greys and blacks, thick wristbands and spiked bracelets clasped arounds his wrists, a choker around his throat, a scowl on his tan features. Before Itachi could register the familiarity of such a person, his Doc Marten was brought down on Itachi's hand, bone cracking and the pencil crushed within. Itachi cried out in pain, trying to escape from this hateful stranger, but found he couldn't move; paralyzed. He opened one eye hesitantly, curling and uncurling his fingers to make sure they weren't broken. Suddenly, a spike of anger drew through his heart from nowhere.

"What the fuck did I _ever_ do to you?! I don't even know who you fucking are!" Itachi screamed, his voice a stranger's from such anger.

The male's jaw clenched in a distinct way. Itachi missed a breath.

"I know you."

"No. Nobody does."

"...Father?"

Another blow to Itachi's jaw shut him up instantly. The black that surrounded them began to shift into a panorama of memories, colors melting in and illuminating the space.

_"You're so smart, Cara Mia."_

_"Itachi, all A's again, of course."_

_"You're skipping a grade again, Itachi?"_

_"I'm so proud!"_

Memories spun and spun around them, praises lauded and blending in the air.

"Remember? Remember how everybody loved you?" Fugaku asked in a cold monotone.

The light of a dying sun cast an orange glow across the emptiness. A wind from nowhere stirred as the scent of the ocean assailed them, Itachi leaning up to kiss Shisui gently for the first time.

"How everybody _loved_ you," he seethed through his teeth.

"Stop..." Itachi's cheeks burned in embarassment. "Father...stop! Stop it, now!"

"You want it to stop?" Fugaku chuckled. "It won't ever stop, Itachi. Never. Not until you make it."

Fugaku reached into his back pocket, drawing out a silver blade, crouching down in front of the paralyzed Itachi, saying in an almost dazed monotone, distant and sad, "But you can't...You can't change _anything_. _You're powerless..._"

Sharply, he jerked Itachi's head up by his ponytail, moving the blade to the base. "You're just as helpless as I-"Itachi groaned in protest before a blue-black blur smashed into the side of the teenager above him.

A thin, wafish girl with short blue-black hair sat back on her heels, rubbing her bicep lightly. Itachi stared at her incredulously. _Who the Hell is that girl?_

As if reading his mind, she turned, her cobalt hair falling into her face only to be swept away with an elegantly familiar air. She gave him a curious, crooked smile and mouthed, _"Are you okay?"_

Itachi nodded wordlessly, watching as she pet his father's hair and winked at him with an all-knowing grin.

-o-

Itachi bolted up in bed with a start, a sharp pain in the center of his hands. He groaned slightly and rubbed his eyes, looking at the alarm clock. _I always wake up at the worst hours..._he thought, noting the blaring 4:13.

"'tachi...lay down," Shisui mumbled, taking the teen into his arms when Itachi's head hit the pillow. Itachi smiled gently when Shisui pulled his hair loose from it's hairtie, running his long fingers through the gorgeous crow-feather tresses. "Your hair is so long...so pretty, 'tachi..." Shisui smiled sleepily as Itachi blushed visibly in the dark. He rubbed the tip of his nose against Itachi's in an affectionate display, murmuring, "I couldn't imagine you any different..."

Itachi thought breifly of his dream and shot up in bed suddenly, his heart stopping for half a second. "Oh God...Shisui...I think I know how to beat him!"

-o-

A/N: WAYYYY too long since I've updated. A lot has been going on personally, so I'm not gonna go into detail, but I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I've had it done for the longest time, but I haven't been able to post it because it went unedited for the longest and no _way _was I gonna post a raw chapter up. So, yeah. I've also been afraid you guys wouldn't like it...heh? So be sure to tell me what you think. I'm afraid I'm getting a little stagnant, so I decided to change up the ending of this chapter a bit.

Thanks for your patience with me!

-Guardian~


	30. No

"How?" Shisui blinked the sleep from his eyes.

"His hair! I have to cut his hair!" Itachi emphasized by grabbing a lock of his own crow-colored tresses. "I don't know why," he answered Shisui's questioning gaze, "But it makes him lose power! Or something..." his voice trailed off uncertainly.

"Itachi...how will cutting his hair do anything?"

"Because he had long hair when he was younger, apparently. And when he went to cut my hair he kept alluding to powerlessness. It has to mean _**some**thing_!"

Shisui nodded slowly, his lips pursed in a tight line, eyes incredulous. "So you think that cutting his hair will weaken him?"

The corner of Itachi's lip twitched slightly. "You don't believe me..." he murmured, crestfallen.

"I never said that, Itamichi. It's a bit hard to believe, yes, but I know that you're right. It's just..."

Itachi nodded slightly, kissing the corner of Shisui's mouth. "Please believe me. I'm trying."

"I know, Itamichi," Shisui took Itachi's hand. "Tell me if there's anything I can do."

"...help me?"

Shisui nodded. "Itachi, I want to help you."

"Then make love to me," he muttered boldly, slipping from beneath the covers as he straddled Shisui's lap, working his flannel pajama pants down his pale hips, flipping his hair over his shoulder with a flick of his head. Shisui stared, mesmerized.

"You're so much braver..." he whispered, pulling Itachi down to kiss him deeply, their lips molding and pressing as Shisui worked the flannel from Itachi's lithe body without breaking the connection. Itachi's eyes flickered open, his butterfly lashes batting gently as he stared down at Shisui's features. Shisui stared back into the darkness that shrouded his lover's irises. They seemed to glow from within. They held that unbreakable gaze for what seemed like ages, a reversal of power in physicality as Itachi perched above the one who owns him, will always own him, their eyes locked. Heat and pain and love and bitter, bitter sorrow seemed to spark in their line of sight. Too much.

"Oh, God, Itachi!" Shisui pulled Itachi down, their foreheads pressing together as Shisui flipped them over, pinning Itachi with his hips, capturing the younger's lips swiftly before undressing himself. His fingers brushed over Itachi's nipples as his hands slipped beneath the younger's thighs, wrapping the pale legs around his waist. Itachi's gaze flickered to the bedside table and Shisui slid the drawer open, pulling out a bottle of lubricant. Itachi's eyelashes batted again, his stomach twisting in delight as he felt Shisui's long fingers sink into him, moaning and writhing as they prodded and searched out _that_ spot inside of him.

His back arched suddenly as it hit, groaning Shisui's name shamelessly as he met his lover's gaze once more. _"Fuck. Foreplay. Fuck. __**Me,**_" he growled. "Now. Please!"

Shisui's eyes glazed over, tossing the bottle away as he thrust into Itachi, sinking in. Itachi twisted and groaned, wrapping his legs around the older's waist, wrapping his arms around Shisui's shoulders, leaning up to his ear.

_"Fuck..."_ he murmured breathlessly. _"Don't ever leave me..."_

"I'll never leave you..." Shisui returned hoarsely.

Their bodies meshed together perfectly, a mechanism. Their names mingled in the air as they pushed and moved and moaned and cried out insatiably. Itachi's nails raked down Shisui's back, tearing skin and making the older arch, thrusting harder, driving each other to the edge, driving each other crazy with every breath. Itachi tangled his long fingers in Shisui's messy curls and groaned loudly, "A-ah! I'm gonna die!"

* * *

><p>The water sloshed lazily as Itachi lay on Shisui's chest, the foamy bathwater warm and comfortable as they lay entangled in the tub. Shisui looked up at Itachi's absent expression and muttered with a smile, "Hey. I love you, you know."<p>

Itachi smiled gently. "Love you," his hand languorously running the length of Shisui's toned arm, noticing the scars. "Did he do that to you?"

Shisui glanced at Itachi, looking away. "...no."

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not," Shisui returned. "I...well...when you were younger, and I couldn't...really...you know, protect you, I...well..."

"You did it to yourself?" Itachi finished uneasily.

"Yeah. I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

"I am."

"Don't be," Itachi finished. "I've done it before, too. Not much. It was a bit restricting when I painted, though. So I stopped."

Shisui blinked slowly. "That was a while ago, huh?"

Itachi nodded, splashing the foamy water gently. Glancing at Shisui mischievously, he smirked, splashing the water at Shisui's jaw. Bolting up, Shisui glared, though couldn't quite hide his smile. "What the heck, Itamichi?"

Itachi simply laughed until Shisui slid aside, letting him fall into the water. It sloshed up around him and flooded onto the floor as the crow went under, flailing about before surfacing. His hair stuck to his face and clung to his lithe body, giving him a ghastly appearance until he lunged as Shisui with a grin on his face, attempting to push him underwater. Shisui only laughed and pulled Itachi close, despite his feeble attempts to submerge the older, brushing his damp hair out of his face and leaning in, kissing him sweetly. But when he pulled away, he noticed blood trickling slowly down Itachi's eye, obviously unnoticed by the way Itachi was grinning. Shisui only wiped it away with the heel of his hand and kissed Itachi again, unwilling to damper his effervescently playful mood. Itachi spotted the blood on Shisui's palm, though, freezing. He burst into laughter, his knees drawing to his chest and his hands clutching his abdomen as he laughed until he began to hyperventilate, gasping for air. Shisui's eyes widened as tears flowed down Itachi's cheeks, mouth twisted into a grimace of a smile, crying and hyperventilating and laughing and pleading, suddenly, "_Help...m-me...sto-sto-stop!"_

Shisui stared helplessly and grabbed Itachi's shoulders, commanding, "Breathe."

He drew back when Itachi shouted, "NO!" and with a glare, smacked the crow across the face.

Everything froze. Even the water seemed to stand still, breath held, time paused.

Itachi's head had snapped into a profile with the force of the strike. Slowly, his eyes, now a deep crimson, watched Shisui carefully, body breathless and taut; an animal about to attack. He turned to face his cousin with an astonished look on his face. "You..."

"Itachi, I..." Shisui began, but stopped. Something clicked. Itachi's breathing was steady. His eyes were even. He wasn't hurt. He wasn't afraid. Shisui frowned. "Don't yell at me," he admonished sternly.

Itachi bowed his head until his neck was displayed obscenely and his crow-colored tresses floated on top of the murky water. _"Gomen nasai."_

* * *

><p>Clothed in Shisui's tee-shirt and pajama pants, Itachi lay in bed, on top of the neatly folded comforter with his arms lain out on either side of him, an absent look on his face; a lost look on his face.<p>

Shisui came in, drying behind his ears with a towel. He let it fall into the hamper and stared at Itachi, feeling as lost as he looked. He instead accepted a sense of responsibility from nowhere and eased the blankets from beneath the younger teen, covering him patiently, then laying down on his side of the bed. They lay there quietly, nothing to say between them, no words strong enough, omniscient enough to clarify.

Finally, Itachi asked, "What happened?"

Shisui paused and said uncertainly, "I don't know. I'll think about it. Go to sleep."

Itachi nodded and turned over, closing his aching eyes.

* * *

><p>AN: Merry Christmas, everyone! I've finally updated! I'm so sorry, like always, for such an obscene absence, but it has been put to use! I've been practicing my writing, reading much more than a normal person should, and sketching out and exploring multiple endings for HSB. *Tear*

I planned to do MUCH more writing today, but I've been awake since yesterday at 8 o'clock, and only got an hour of sleep at four p.m. today. I swore to myself that I would at least update HSB, and here it is! For those of you who still choose to follow this aimless story, my most profound thank you's. To those who have given up, I'm sorry~Truly. My life is a hectic train and with everything that's been going on, I'm a bit swept away.

But I do, and I mean to stick to it, plan, as my New Year's Resolution, to finish HSB, update more frequently, and...*Drumroll* attempt to publish my first book! It's a work in progress called Secrets from the Dead, and I've been working on it on and off again for quite a while.

So thank you all for being so patient and Happy Holidays to everyone!

I love you, I love you!

-The Weary, Adamant Nakano


	31. I am

He felt the belt tighten around his throat, felt himself yanked back like a disobedient dog on a leash, felt his windpipe falter beneath the pressure felt the pain of suffocation felt the hatehatehate felt the water…of the…shower…as he snapped back to reality, his heart slowing in his chest as he breathed deeply. In, out, in out…He noticed the cold droplets of water splashing against his skin and sighed, gently tracing his fingers around the spot where he felt his life ebb from suffocation.

This was getting harder to bear.

-o-

Shisui browsed the web page, the different collars, styles, uses, everything foreign and vague to him. The whole concept was ambiguous in design, like a foreigner lost in a new country. But, being human, he'd figure it out eventually. He compared the collar in the velvet lined box to each one he saw and paused. Why was he doing this? Well, when Itachi called him "Master"…it seemed right. He was personally revolted by the idea of becoming even something similar to Fugaku, yet a part of him was excited at the prospect of having Itachi all to himself, the idea of dominance, submission, total power exchange. Not only exciting, but it was arousing, even, as he read the different articles, his overactive imagination drifting to morph every example into Itachi. He could practically see the pretty crow on his knees, forehead pressed to the floor, the nape of his neck exposed in total submission…Shisui shuddered.

"Dear God…" he muttered, groaning softly as he set his laptop aside, closing the case holding his gift to Itachi-if he were to even accept it-as said crow came into the room from his shower, skin glistening and hair damp, sticking to his perfect face and pale neck.

"C'mere, Itachi," Shisui muttered, to which Itachi automatically obeyed, leaning down to kiss his Seme. Shisui pulled Itachi into his lap, making the feminine teen straddle his waist and gasp in surprise.

Itachi blushed lightly, then adopted a sultry look as he began to grind his hips into Shisui's, keeping eye contact the entire time. Shisui smirked. Shameless...

"Am I sitting on the T.V. remote, or are you just really happy to see me?"

Shisui laughed and returned, "I'm bigger than the remote control and you know it, Itachi. And anyways..." his hand laced with the back of Itachi's head, pulling him down close enough to mutter seductively, "I want you to call me Master tonight."

"Master...?" Itachi flushed, looking at Shisui incredulously, eyes glazing in the way they did when Itachi contemplated something heavily. Then, his lids went heavy as he moaned softly, purring, "Master..." as he ducked his head low.

-o-

Fugaku only watched with a chiding smirk, laughing at Itachi's steady, unabashed expression.

"Tch..." Fugaku only continued to laugh hysterically as his son growled, "You don't own me anymore."

Fugaku, now not much older than Itachi, simply wiped a tear from his eye and said, "So you called him 'Master.' Who gives a fuck?" His long brunette hair swayed behind him as he shifted his weight, a hand resting on his hip. "Look. How I see it is: you're really bad at this whole, y'know, independance thing. You know, when you don't need somebody taking care of you like a little bitch anymore?" he laughed again, then continued, "Don't be so fucking needy. It's not cute. Why do you even care about him, anyways?"

"Because he's my best friend. You wouldn't know much about friends, would you?" He retorted.

"So you have a best friend. Big fucking deal. I had a best friend, too. She's a fucking liar."

"Who...-"

"Still lived in Japan, what a load of bullshit..." he scoffed, vanishing, leaving Itachi alone in the abysmal room.

He thought for a minute about who Fugaku could have possibly befriended in his life.

It suddenly hit him.

"Holy shit..." he muttered, slightly perturbed. "She...lied?"

-o-

He pulled the chain on the overhead lightbulb, flooding the basement with dim yellow light. He hated going down there for anything, much less of his own accord. It was dank and creepy and filled to the brim with awful memories, his screams embedded in the walls.

"Here," he murmured, pulling an old photo album out of the box he unearthed beneath stacks of mementos.

Beneath the coat of dust it wore, the photo album had his parents' names scrawled in their respective handwriting, delicate lace covering the majority of the folio lightly. He opened the first page to see a girl with short, dark hair in an unconventionally short wedding dress and black Doc Martens that were two sizes too large for her slim calves standing next to a not-quite-stoic, smiling Fugaku, wearing a short-sleeved button-down and black slacks, his long brunette hair pulled back into a ponytail.

Itachi gaped. "Holy God," he murmured, "He's smiling..."

He began to turn the page, catching a glimpse of the short-haired girl, his mother, with a swollen belly when a sudden click and whistle caught his attention, jumping up in time to see the steam gushing from the water heater ignite a cardboard box. Coughing, Itachi choked on the smoke as he darted upstairs, stumbling on the last step and dropping the album to the mercy of the conflagration, turning back to retrieve it, only to see it engulfed in flames, shutting the door behind himself.

Panting and coughing, he yelled, "What the heck, Dad?!" as he caught his breath.

He grabbed the fire extinguisher from the cupboard beneath the sink and opened the door, only to see majority of the basement untouched by the flames, the exception being the photo album that sat charred and sooty at the base of the stairs. He descended slowly and picked it up, noting its lack of warmth. Every page was burnt except for two: The one of Fugaku and Mikoto's wedding, and one of Shisui holding a newborn Itachi. His heart seemed to clench as he stared at that picture. The fact that this was the only picture of Shisui and Itachi together was reassuring; he was protected from Fugaku.

-o-

He faced his father once more, stoic as Fugaku approached. He let Fugaku's hands run over the body that belonged to Shisui, each touch meaningless and detached; not even there, never there. He let this happen for one reason: this could no longer affect him.

Suddenly, "You aren't in control of your own mind," roared in the back of his head and Itachi's eyes flashed open, bloody red. Fugaku went flying back to the opposite wall, head cracking against it roughly, slumping to the floor, limp. The abysmal sky opened up above them, crimson with darkened clouds. They swirled above as crows called, sweeping in a thick black flock across the vermillion sky. They swept away the red and instead left a dark 3 a.m. morning behind, wind and rain assaulting the men as they stared at each other.

Fugaku recognized this. His eyes widened. A door in the distance slammed open as they heard echo across the lawn, "You aren't in control of your own mind!"

"You're wrong!" the real Itachi protested. "You were fucking wrong!"

Thunder cracked across the horizon with his screams. Fugaku, younger now, more frightened now, looked away as his son fought against the men in white uniforms, snarling and struggling like some beautiful beast.

"FUCKING LOOK AT IT!" he screamed, "LOOK!"

Fugaku squeezed his eyes shut. Itachi muttered, "I am in control of my own mind. I am, I am, I AM!"

The crow began to scream repeatedly, lightning striking with every protest. "I AM, I AM, I AM, I AM," he shouted, Fugaku covering his ears. Itachi's hysterical voice reverberated in the trees, the house, the men, his head, violent and angry and louder than the thunder that rolled directly overhead.

"Shut up!" Fugaku returned, and everything went black, the scene, the sky, and Itachi's world.

Mentally exhausted and no strength left to fight, he lost consciousness and began to fall, fall, fall.

-o-

"Shisui-nii! Shisui-nii!" Sasuke yelled, grabbing onto his wrist desperately. "Itachi's dead!"


	32. This is It

Shisui's heart froze when he found Itachi's body lying in the garden among the peonies, still and cold. His body was limp and fragile in Shisui's arms, clinging to Itachi like a drowning man, hands trembling and tears going unnoticed. Shisui pressed his face into his lover's icy neck, choking back a sob, his whole body shaking violently, whimpering out his name as if it would rouse him from sleep.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no," he tried feebly, feeling his will to live, breathe, exist drain slowly, limbs going as heavy as the lead brick in his stomach as he laid Itachi down and pressed his face into his still chest, sobbing silently as the rose trellis blocked the world from view.

-o-

Itachi felt something cold hit his cheek, rousing suddenly, groggy and tired. His head felt like it was full of cotton, stuffy and aching as he pressed himself to stand on stiff joints. He wiped away whatever had woken him with the back of his hand, noting silently that it was only water and shrugging his indifference. He glanced around, noticing the dead peonies and wilting roses in his mother's garden. He went inside and looked around. Everything was the same, unnervingly, the furniture covered in a thin layer of dust that silenced his footsteps as he made his way upstairs, the house totally silent. Itachi opened the door to his room and walking in, saw he wasn't alone. What happened, he thought discontentedly, pulling back the covers on his bed to see dead gray eyes staring up at him, blood that streamed from his wrists soaking the sheets, a bruise around his throat like a violet and black choker. He stifled a scream as he stumbled backwards, falling over Poe's corpse and hitting his head on the wall.

When he opened his eyes again, he was in that room, with its abysmal roof gaping above. He stood once more to face his father, who stared absently, his face young and indifferent. "Well," he shrugged, "this is it."

"Yes...it is..." Itachi conceded. "And you have no idea what you've put me through...but I'll show you..." Itachi's voice trembled with barely-suppressed rage. "Somehow...I'll show you...hurting me...depriving me...treating me like a whore!" he spat, his voice rebounding off of the walls. "You have no idea..." he stopped. "Why?" he snapped. "You owe me that much. Why did you do it? Why couldn't you just STOP?!"

"You'll never know how hard it was to watch what I wanted to be exist..." was all that was said before a fist connected with Itachi's cheekbone. He retorted with a leg sweep, attempting to knock Fugaku down. He only grabbed his ankle and pulled it out from underneath his son, who rolled out of the way in time to avoid taking Fugaku's Doc Marten to the face. Itachi glanced around and shut his eyes, letting them flutter open when he heard the ambience of the asylum, the steady HRM beeping in the background. He barely acknowledged his nearly-dead form in the bed with stitches adorning his wrist ("I don't remember that...") as he grabbed a scalpel from the medical table and threw it at Fugaku, watching as it lodged itself into his bicep. Fugaku scowled in pain and ripped it out, slamming Itachi against the wall with his shoulder and tracing the blade along his throat.

"Why were you so loved?! What was so special about you?!" Fugaku spat as he dragged the scalpel through Itachi's throat. Suddenly, the necklace shifted, catching the blade and throwing it from Fugaku's hand, stopping the flow of blood and healing the wound. Fugaku withdrew as Itachi coughed up droplets of red on the linoleum.

"You need all the luck you can get."

"I'll always be protecting you."

Itachi grabbed the scalpel and stabbed at Fugaku once again before he dropped out from Itachi's sight.

He glanced down to see Fugaku land in a tumble, taking off running for a dismantled half-pipe. He grabbed a steel rod and turned back to his son with an awful sneer. "Come on!" he shouted, exploiting Itachi' acrophobia.

He heard Madara's voice echo in his head. "He used to cut the wings off of birds. He would say that if he couldn't fly away from that place, then they couldn't either."

Itachi doubled over as a searing pain tore through his shoulderblades, blood spurting from the open wounds as a pair of beautiful crow's wings burst from his back. He arched as they flapped once, twice, then his eyes turned red. Fugaku only stared breathlessly, "Oh, my...God..."

Itachi stood on that roof like some angel of Death, his long black hair flowing freely in the wind that ripped through the rainy night. The wings sparkled with raindrops that caught the lightning, extending brilliantly, nails as black as the sky, the same outfit from Halloween fluttering in the wind. The violet ring glinted blindingly.

Fugaku felt his knees go weak as he stared upon this beautiful creature he created of rage and hatred and pure jealousy, for once truly afraid of this...this...

"What now?" Itachi called, his voice carried by the wind and echoing over the treetops.

"You think you're pretty impressive, don't you? Shisui do that?" he mocked.

"He did a lot more than this," Itachi growled, wings batting away raindrops.

"Well..." Fugaku smashed the pipe against the ground, creating a jagged break. "When he gave you wings, did he teach you how to use them?"

Itachi scowled. "He didn't need to!"

"What a joke..."

He didn't noticed Itachi speeding towards him until the scalpel was inches from his face. "Am I good enough for you now, Father?"

"Ha!" Fugaku dodged the knife narrowly, driving the pipe through the thin membrane of the wing.

Itachi screamed as Fugaku tore the lower half of the wing, blood dripping as he fell to the ground. Fugaku placed a heavy foot on Itachi's chest, poising the pipe for his throat.

-o-

"What do you mean he's not dead?" Shisui spat, clutching Itachi's body with a baleful expression. "He's right here!"

"He needs our help, stupid!" Sasuke urged, "Get him inside."

"Sasuke, I don't know if this is some little kid coping mechanism, but I-"

Sasuke's eyes flashed an otherworldy red. "I saw it. He's fighting dad!"

Shisui froze, then nodded.

-o-

"Goodnight," Fugaku taunted as he brought the pipe down.

Itachi flickered from sight suddenly, grabbing a fistful of Fugaku's hair and cutting it away. The older male screamed in frustration, swinging the pipe, connecting with Itachi's temple. The crow shook it off and cut away another lock, failing to dodge the suddenly accurate swing that made him lose consciousness for a breif moment. He felt his head spin as his dizzy gaze met Fugaku's eyes, now older, icy and cynical. "You're wrong, Itachi..." He chimed.

"It's...making you-"

Fugaku laughed his cruel laugh and brought the pipe up to deliver the final blow that would crack Itachi's skull and hemorrhage his brain. Itachi's body suddenly jerked from the vicinity, catching his footing as his father swung to kill him.

Itachi cursed. Cursed his ignorance, cursed not listening to Shisui's doubts. Now Fugaku was stronger and there was nothing he could do to rectify his mistake, to apologize for being so stupid. This was all his fault. He dragged his loved ones into this against their will, put them in danger, all because he couldn't take it. Why was he so selfish? Why couldn't he just grin and bear it like before?

He opened his eyes to see Fugaku lost in thought, dropping the pipe and stepping around Itachi. He turned his head to watch his father step into an incredible familiar house; his.

An orchid sat in the front window, the exterior itself a different color; pale blue instead of its current white finish. Itachi sat up slowly to avoid troubling his head and winced at the pain in his wing, following close behind. He noticed the furniture was all the same besides a bunch of ugly orchids spread about the interior. He ascended the stairs slowly to see his short-haired mother with her arms around his father's shoulders in a loving hug, then brushing his hair out with a hairbrush that increased the length dramatically. He nearly called out in surprise when she turned with a finger pressed to her smiling lips, silently pointing in the direction of the attic; Itachi's future room. She kicked a paintbrush in Itachi's direction in response to his confused look and cocked her head for him to go before Fugaku noticed.

He understood what she was doing and left.

The attic was dusty and filled with old photo albums and worn clothing, different things from when his parents lived in Japan. He closed his eyes and tried to remember when he moved into the attic at ten. "The easel is in..." he murmured.

"Ne, Itachi, look at this!" Shisui called with his still-there Korean accent. "Sa...painting easel, I think."

Itachi's eyes widened. "Oh, cool," he pushed through the boxes, "Let me see."

"Here!" he pulled the box up and began to assemble it when he wondered what, exactly, painting would do to Fugaku. He stood the easel up and placed a blank canvas on it, finding a tube of yellow acrylic and black oil paint. He began to paint the first thing he could think of: Poe. Her pretty slick fur and vibrant yellow eyes came to life on the canvas as he lost himself in the act. "Why did I ever stop?" he questioned, and in response got a loud mewl. Itachi froze and glanced down to see his pretty kitten wrapping around his legs, purring. He dropped the brush and picked her up, hugging her tightly. "Oh my God, Poe!"

She meweled happily in response, pawing at his face and purring like a motor as she licked at his tears.

They froze as a scream resounded throughout the house, Itachi feeling this reprieve of happiness melt away as it did many times when he was a child, a mirror smashing and swearing reaching from the floor below. Itachi felt like a child again, his stomach sinking as he heard those heavy footsteps thudding up the stairs to his room just like before, just like those awful nights where he knew he wouldn't sleep. He dropped Poe and backed up into the easel to realize that it was taller than him, much taller, and the ceiling was higher than before. He paused when he saw himself in the mirror, realizing he was ten again, his face young and bruised, eyelashes too long, hair brushing his shoulder blades. He looked at his small hands and remembered the feeling of helplessness, the lack of strength that came with these tiny fumbling fingers, the violet paint chipping, the hands restrained, the memories swirling. He shut his eyes and urged himself to grow, to become older, stronger, regain his wings, let him fly away, escape with Poe, something, something!

Instead, he did the only thing he could think of and ducked under his covers, wishing Shisui was there.

The door burst open to reveal Fugaku, looking positively deranged with his hair chopped off haphazardly and a manic glint in his eye. Itachi curled into a ball, breath quickening as he remembered his hands restrained and his mouth clamped shut and his legs forced apart and the painpainpain and the helplessness and where was Shisui?!

Fugaku ripped back the blankets with a smirk and chided, "I know you're there, Itachi. You can't hide from me."

Poe suddenly flattened her ears and hissed, sinking her sharp little teeth into Fugaku's Achilles' heel. Fugaku's shout of pain woke Itachi up from his fear and he threw himself out of bed, grabbing the brush.

"Don't you fucking dare, you little freak!"

Itachi only glared over his shoulder as he began to paint Poe's claws longer, teeth sharper, gentle body growing into a beautiful sleek beast, tail whipping back and forth violently.

"Good girl," Itachi praised as the creature attacked without warning, claws tearing at Fugaku's face and teeth ripping at his throat.

Poe went at Fugaku like she did her crickets: swiftly and eagerly, without fail. Itachi ducked behind them and ran out of the door, but paused, looking back to meet Poe's eyes telling him tales.

I've wanted this forever. Go. I'll be fine.

Itachi nodded hesitantly and whispered, "Thank you, Poe."

-o-

"Shisui-nii! It's Poe! She's attacking dad," Sasuke cried as his eyes glinted red. Shisui stared at Itachi with a dazed expression.

"Where is he...?" he muttered dizzily.

"I don't know, but he needs you Shisui. He needs our help. I think we can affect him somehow. Tell him something!"

Shisui nodded. "How does he look?"

"He's a...child! Not much older than me."

Shisui shut his eyes and recalled Itachi's pretty, round face when he was adolescent. "Pretty 'tachi..." he murmured, kissing the tip of Itachi's nose sweetly as he did when Itachi was little. "You can do it, 'tachi."

-o-

Itachi paused, blushing lightly as he shut his eyes with resolve, nodding. He continued down the hallway, opening the door that sat at the end. A heavy scent hit him in the face, thick iron hanging overhead as the door creaked open. Itachi gasped lightly as his near-lifeless form lay on the ground before him, breathing in spasmodic jerks, blood gushing from his back with each breath. His spine lay visible in several spots, his shoulderblades torn up with a bloody lead pipe not laying three feet away from him. His hair spilled behind him like an oil leak, thin pale skin stretched over trembling shoulders. Itachi approached himself slowly, the beaten thing of thirteen jerking at the sound of somebody else in the room. He sidestepped the viscous blood puddling on the floor and knelt down in front of the dying him.

The near-dead Itachi's eyes widened, eyelashes fluttering lightly as he shivered, lower lip trembling as he turned his head to face the floor, not quite crying yet even as his body jerked and spasmed with the pain.

"It's so cold..." he whispered into the hardwood floor, even though it was at least seventy degrees in the room, Itachi estimated, and the sunlight seemed to land directly on him from the window. But Itachi understood anyways, the scars on his back searing in familiarity.

Suddenly, though, a blanket draped itself over the dying form, and Itachi looked over his shoulder to see Shisui lean down, scooping up the bloody figure in his arms and cradling it close. He laid a kiss to the dying Itachi's forehead and murmured comforts as the Itachi whined in pain at contact with his back, trembling violently. Itachi frowned. He didn't remember this. When did it happen? He followed Shisui upstairs, curious, noticing how Shisui didn't seem to give a damn about the blood that was soaking the blanket and the front of his shirt thoroughly. Itachi watched as Shisui laid the dying him on his stomach on the bed after laying down the blood soaked blanket to try and protect the sheets. He turned the lifeless Itachi's head to the side so he could breathe and steadied his hands as he burned the sharp of a needle with a lighter and began to stitch, slowly, the wounds that he could, bottles of iodine going onto the torn flesh to clean away blood in lieu of saline solution. Shisui's eyes were steady even as he grimaced at the awful wounds, blood staining his fingers as he pet Itachi's hair every so often to reassure him, the dying eyes staring up at him, feeling everything. Halfway through, Shisui suddenly stopped and cursed loudly, kicking the wall as he shook, the image of Itachi's wounds imprinted in his mind as he willed himself calm and returned to treating the lacerations, hands trembling slightly now. Itachi watched, awestruck, as Shisui so carefully stitched skin back in place, cleaning away blood and bandaging as he went. He ran his knuckles beneath the injured Itachi's eye soothingly and cooed, "Sara Bene, Cara mia."

Itachi nodded lightly with this and breathed out a heavy breath of relief as Shisui finished stitching with what Itachi recognized as one of his mother's sewing needles, rubbing neosporin gently onto the wounds that weren't as bad, dabbing iodine onto the rest, and bandaging them, removing the bloody blanket from beneath his "patient" and throwing it into the hamper, resolving to throw it away later as it was beyond repair. The wounded Itachi continued to tremble violently with the cold and Shisui gently dressed Itachi in a thick pullover hoodie and covered him with several blankets, waiting until he was asleep to cry.

Itachi only stared in awe, shocked and confused. How could he not remember this? He blinked slowly and thought that he must've remembered, because this wouldn't be here if he didn't. He walked around the bed to Shisui and wrapped his arms around the sixteen-year-old's waist, murmuring a gentle thank-you into him as he nodded with resolve once more, now fully aware that no matter how badly he was wounded, Fugaku couldn't kill him, had never been able to, because Shisui was there. He could do it.

Because Shisui was always there. He fingered the necklace around his throat gently and gave his dying form one last glance, feeling his body grow, hair reaching down his back once more to hide those wounds, wings sprouting, but not fixed. Shisui glanced up suddenly, eyes flickering in recognition.

"'tachi, what did you get yourself into," he murmured lovingly as he picked up the needle once more and beckoned the crow over. Itachi turned around and Shisui began to stitch the wing back together gently.

"Where did you learn to do this?" Itachi asked softly.

"The internet. Fugaku never took you to the doctor's or the hospital after he injured you. It was learn to stitch wounds or let you bleed out and die most times. You don't remember most of those wounds, do you? PTSD, I suppose."

"Do you want to become a doctor like Uncle Madara?"

"Kind of. That's one of the ways you changed me, 'tachi."

Itachi glanced over his shoulder at Shisui's small smile, hands working contently at the wing, thread and needle moving quickly but not painfully. "I know, I know. So Elizabethan, this method. But I didn't know what else to do. I was twelve when I learned how to do this. And it worked. You're here. Alive."

"Shisui...thank you," Itachi murmured.

"For what?" he smiled. "I'm just doing what I love. Protecting you."

"Isn't it arduous? Wouldn't you rather do something else?"

"Like what? Play video games or do drugs or something? Like most eighteen year olds? No way. You're the best hobby there is. And you gave me a sense of purpose. You've given many people a sense of purpose just by existing, Itachi. Haven't you realized that yet?"

Itachi shook his head no, a frown forming on his pale lips. Shisui only shook his head incredulously and sighed playfully. "You're so intelligent, yet so oblivious to everything, Itamichi. I don't see how that makes sense, yet you've never really made sense, have you? But, yeah. You've given many people purpose. You've steered them onto the right path just by existing."

It was Itachi's turn to roll his eyes. "I highly doubt that."

"You really don't believe him, Nii-san?" a voice chided as the door opened with a squeak, and Sasuke came about into Itachi's view.

* * *

><p>AN: I suck at action scenes. Enjoy~


	33. Can't

"Sasuke...?" Itachi stared in disbelief at his little brother, now suddenly a teenager, his body lithe, pale, and strong, hair wild and dyed.

"Kind of," Sasuke shrugged.

"Sasuke, why are you older?"

"Because, nii-san," Sasuke canted his hip out and put his hand on it. "You gave me the maturity to deal with the trauma that dad inflicted on us and the trauma of practically watching you die on multiple occasions. You gave me the strength to be positive even when life was dark and bloodstained. You gave me the kindness that father tried to take away."

Itachi blinked as Madara came up alongside his brother. "Uncle Madara..."

"Your courage, Itachi, to love even when your father hurt you so badly gave me the courage to survive even when Hashirama-kun took the light of the world away. You enlightened me to the fact that you don't need medicine to stay alright after somebody has hurt you."

A girl with violet hair and multiple piercings strode up beside Madara, smiling lightly.

"Kimsong..."

"Hey, you remembered me! Yep. You taught me that I should never let somebody dictate who I am just because of where I am. That even if I am a registered nurse, that doesn't mean I can't have purple hair and nipple piercings, that I'm still me, and nobody can do anything to dictate who I am."

Itachi flushed lightly as Iseul and Akashi came up. "You gave us the ability to see our son for who he was, no matter who he loved," Iseul stated with a small smile.

"To see that he was doing much more than we thought with his life," Akashi added.

"And that we were worried for nothing," Shisui's mother finished.

"Yep," Akashi nodded his concurrence. "Teaching yourself all of this...He's doing a pretty good job with his life..."

"Doctor Shisui, huh?" Iseul smirked.

Shisui chuckled lightly, rubbing the back of his head. Ichabod and Poe squeezed their way into the throng, mewling and purring happily.

"What...?"

"They were going to be put down when you got them for your birthday. Speaking of, Mikoto has something to tell you, too..." Iseul glanced over her shoulder, looking around for Itachi's mother. "She stood us up. I feel jilted," Iseul pouted. Akashi only rolled his eyes.

"Anyways..." He looked to Shisui, who nodded.

"Wait..." Itachi frowned. "How did I change you, Shisui?"

Iseul bit her lip and looked away. Akashi frowned. Shisui shifted his weight and glanced back at Itachi. "Some other time, 'kay?" he jabbed the teen in his forehead. Itachi shook his head. "No."

Shisui scowled. "So adamant. Let's just say, there's a saw trap for good people, for bad people, and me."

Itachi opened his mouth to speak, but Shisui silenced him quickly with a kiss. "Hush. We're here to help you beat him. Okay? We all came to help you."

"But, why...? You'll all get hurt."

"Not particularly," Kimsong returned. "Only those who have been physically hurt by him can feel it here. We're here to lend you strength."

"Back-up," Akashi shrugged.

"Meow," Ichabod added.

Itachi smiled lightly and flinched as Shisui's arms wrapped around him. "We're here to show you that you're not alone anymore. That you have the one advantage that he doesn't."

"...what advantage is that?" Itachi asked quietly, suddenly uncertain. "You were right...I'm small. I can't do much."

"You may be small and fragile, but you're incredibly resilient, Itachi. And-"

"You have us," Sasuke finished, wrapping his arms around Itachi's waist, resting his chin on his brother's shoulder as they all gathered around him, nodding their assent.

Itachi felt his eyes burn as tears welled in his eyes, blinking back the weakness in them until Shisui murmured, "It's okay."

And Itachi cried. And he realized.

"You don't have to do this alone."

Itachi nodded and took a deep breath, wiping away tears as he murmured. "I wouldn't have so much faith in myself if I were you. I have no idea how to do this."

Sasuke tucked his hands in his pockets. "Maybe you have to do it a certain way? Like shooting him, like before."

"Yes, because this is all based on memories. Or you have to do something to him that he did to you?" Madara nodded.

"Oh, that's fantastic," Sasuke murmured. "Revenge."

Itachi winced as everyone conceded with the idea of brutally maiming him to teach him a lesson. He recoiled when Shisui suggested darkly, "Beat him across the back with a lead pipe."

"I don't want to do any of that! I didn't even know what I was doing when I shot him!" Itachi covered his ears and shuddered, falling to his knees. "I don't want to kill him."

Shisui blinked away the idea of such sweet, bloody revenge and knelt down beside Itachi. "I think you'll know when the time comes, Cara mia. You just need to be on an even playing field. Don't allow him to have the advantage. And you can only fight in places you've been."

"Think of a place where he would be weak," Sasuke added.

"Uncle Madara...?" Itachi tried.

"...the only place I can think of would probably be the hospital."

"What, is he afraid of hospitals or something?"

"No, the Hospital. The one his father put him in."

"Father was in a mental hospital...?" Itachi glanced up, removing his hands from his ears with an astonished expression. Madara nodded.

"His father sent him away for a while. After he attacked his older brother, Amakko. You should try and fight him there."

Itachi frowned as Shisui helped him stand. "But I've never been there. How would I do that?"

"Try and make him remember his time there," Akashi tried. "Coax him into it."

Madara's eyes lit up. "Tell him he isn't in control of his own mind. That's what his father said to him."

"That's what father said to me..." Itachi recalled, and glanced up to notice everyone was gone, the room melting into black.

"They're not here, Itachi..." Fugaku smirked. "It's you and me. We're alone, now."

"..." Itachi swallowed in fear and barked, "No! You're alone! I have...I have them! The people who love me..."

Fugaku winced as an inch of hair grew from his scalp. "You wouldn't know much about that, would you?" Another. "You've been hated your entire life!" Another.

"Enough! Shut up!" Fugaku roared as Itachi narrowly dodged a swing at him, driving his elbow into his father's shoulder. His wings drove him upward as he kicked Fugaku between the shoulderblades, watching the older male fall to his knees. He drove a fist into the base of his father's skull, the room melting into an unfamiliar den, blood staining the fireplace. Fugaku grabbed Itachi's ankle and threw him to the ground, clutching a fistful of his hair as he slammed Itachi into the marble of the bloody fireplace. He dragged Itachi up to see the damage and recoiled as he saw light violet drip down the head wound instead of red. "Naturally," he heard a maternal voice agree in his head, and drove a fist into Fugaku's nose, catching hard and making black splatter onto his raw knuckles.

They fought brutally, using nothing but fists, the room shape-shifting constantly, their memories bleeding into each other's. Itachi dragged his nails down Fugaku's face as he drove his knee into Itachi's ribs. Their hands latched onto one another's throats, clutching to kill. Oxygen deprivation made Itachi's head spin as tears began to stream down his face, hands trembling as he cried, "I don't want to do this, father! I can't do it! Not again. I don't want to be the killer you want me to be! I don't want to be like you..." and let go.

Fugaku began to squeeze tighter, cutting off his son's breathing entirely, holding until Itachi began to turn pale blue and his eyes rolled into the back of his head, going limp against Fugaku's hold.

-o-


	34. The End

Sasuke's eyes flitted open, muttering, "Dad's suffocating him. The necklace isn't working, he needs something stronger..."

Shisui nodded and rifled through the bedside drawer, pulling out the leather box and clasping the gift he had for Itachi around his throat. He leant down to his now-submissive's ear and ordered, "You can't lose."

-o-

Itachi's world suddenly flashed back into consciousness, head snapping up and breath filling his lungs, gasping in a desperate need for oxygen.

He blinked away the haze of near-death and saw Fugaku, hands drenched in black blood, hunched over as the pain overtook him. Itachi reached for his throat to find a collar placed around his neck, feeling the name engraved in the leather. Shisui's doing...

Itachi understood, standing with a dark glint in his eye as he approached. The room shifted a final time, rain pouring overhead in front of an unfamiliar house, with an unfamiliar family crowded in the doorway to watch an all-too-familiar boy be dragged away into that awful ambulance, recognition thudding in his chest. Thunder cracked overhead. He noticed that his father's hair, now so long that it spilled over his shoulders and down his back, shaded his face, damp and sticking to his skin. He barely registered the sobbing that came from the teen.

"W...why..." Fugaku murmured, "Why were you so...loved? So precious...?" His head shot up, glaring violently. "What did you have that I didn't?!"

Itachi blinked twice and went to reach out for him when his necklace lit up, blindingly bright, bleaching the surroundings white. He glanced around to see everything was white.

"Itachi."

Itachi turned around to see his mother standing in the blue dress, flames licking gently at her feet. She smiled lightly at him.

"Momma..." he began "I..."

"I suppose I owe you the truth...even though you probably already figured it out."

"Truth?"

"Mhmm..." she smiled, "Sit. It'll be a long story."

Itachi sat in a chair that had materialized behind himself. Mikoto nodded, then began. "I did love you father."

"You...loved him?"

"Yes...very much," she smiled. "We got married when I was eighteen. He was twenty-three. We moved here before we did, and Madara gave us the house that you live in now. We were happy as could be, and when I got pregnant with you, he was overjoyed."

Itachi blinked, confused.

"You don't remember, but he didn't get the way he was until you were four, when your grandparents came to visit. By then you were walking, talking, reading, everything! you were doing advanced math by then. And your grandparents loved you. They couldn't get over how smart you were, how well-mannered and polite you were, how pretty you were. And Fugaku hated that because those were his parents, doting over you like they never did him. He was so jealous of you that it drove him mad. That night he hit you, and me. That's when everything went wrong."

"So he hit us because he was jealous?" Itachi's nose wrinkled in disdain.

"Itachi, his parents hated him," she murmured softly, "his mother told him every day that he was a mistake. His father would beat him for the most trivial things. His older brother hated him. His little sister was afraid of him...he had no one. And then you were born, and he thought he had done something right. But when he saw how much they loved you, when he had never been shown that affection, it...well...it drove him a little crazy."

"So you're saying it was my fault?!" Itachi demanded.

"No, Itachi, no. I'm saying it's not his fault."

Itachi frowned and sat back in the chair. Mikoto sighed and continued, "You get your long hair from him, too. God, he did love you, Itachi. He did, I promise."

"You don't do that to the people you love," Itachi spat.

"Shisui has hit you before," Mikoto pointed out.

"He has a right to," Itachi returned, his hand running along the collar affectionately, "He was more of a father to me than Fugaku ever was."

"..." Mikoto sighed, shutting her eyes in resignation. "They said you were co-dependent..."

"I AM NOT CODEPENDENT!" Itachi stood, knocking the chair back. "AND EVEN IF I WAS, IT WOULD BE YOUR FAULT!"

Mikoto's eyes widened.

"YOU WERE THE ONE WHO STAYED WITH THAT ABUSIVE ASSHOLE ANYWAYS! I WOULDN'T NEED SHISUI SO DAMN MUCH IF YOU HAD LEFT HIM!" Itachi caught himself and his expression softened. "Mama...I..."

"No, no, it's okay. I know. It is my fault. I just wished that...well...I just hoped that one day he would just stop, y'know? If this is anyone's fault, it's mine."

Itachi righted his chair and sat back down. Mikoto nodded lightly.

"Why did you stay with him?"

"Because, Itachi. I love him. So much. I just wish you got to know the Fugaku I knew."

Itachi closed his eyes and muttered, "I think there's something wrong with me..."

Mikoto's eyes widened.

"I can't remember the night I did it...I just know I did. Sometimes I forgot what father did to me. I can't clearly remember the nights that he..well...I can't remember when Shisui fixed me up after he beat me with the lead pipe...I can't...I might not be in control of my own mind..."

Mikoto bit her lip and said, "It runs in the family, you know. You were the first person who was ever brave enough to refuse medicine. You inspired Shisui not to do so..."

"Shisui took medication?"

"Yes. Here...let me tell you a story. Once upon a time..."

"Momma..." Itachi giggled.

"I'm serious," she smiled. "Once upon a time, there was a little boy only three years old. He was despondent, emotionless, and would cry for no reason. His parents were worried so they took him to the doctor. The doctor said," Mikoto cleared her throat and said in a falsely deep voice, "'We think he's this, we think he's that, we think he's mad, we think he's lonely, blah blah blah," she giggled. "Guess which one he was."

"He isn't mad, so..."

"Lonely," she smiled. "But they didn't know that until a very special day."

"Which was...?"

"Once upon a time-"

"Momma."

"Fine. June 9th. A beautiful little boy was born. Can you guess his name?"

Itachi frowned. Mikoto rolled her eyes. "His name was Itachi Asako Ichijou Uchiha. He was tiny and pale, with long eyelashes and long hair, swaddled in a soft blue blanket. He didn't cry, which was worrying, and the doctors were afraid he'd be weak as he grew up, and said he'd need lots of attention. We were all so worried until he was pressed into the now four year old's arms and did something no newborn does: when that boy said his name, the newborn opened his eyes. We knew he would be all right. Turns out, some people didn't think either of them would be okay, but they kept each other all right against all odds. Although, some secrets were kept...for example, Itachi never knew that his friend would hold his head underwater to drown himself at four years old."

Itachi's eyes flew open. "What?"

"Mmhmm...but all of his darkness went away after he heard Itachi's first word, which was..."

"Shisui..." Itachi finished.

"Very good. And this story is not only a story of love and hate, but one of honesty and lies, of true and candid feelings, of darkness and light. Out beautiful protagonist will suffer hardships, many hardships, but like the stories that begin with 'Once upon a time,' there is an army to defend the beautiful, tragic protagonist, and a knight in shining armor to rescue you from the dark and misunderstood antagonist, whom of which is vanquished with empathy and the strongest force there is..."

"Hate...?"

Mikoto giggled. "Love."

Itachi blinked. "Then who in the story are you?"

"Me? I'm just lucky to have had a part in it. I'm sorry I wasn't a better mother to you and Sasuke. I wish I could have seen my mistake sooner. But I don't think there's anything wrong with you."

"You don't? I shot you in the fucking head!"

"Itachi, language. But...when that happened, you, like me, were blinded by that powerful force; by love. Love for Sasuke, love for Shisui, love for me, and love for yourself. But it can be overwhelming at times. Which is why I couldn't leave him, against my better judgement and everything my parents taught me. And, due to that sick addiction called love, I am actually happy that you killed me, too, because I can be with him. He can't stand being alone, like you."

Itachi's brows furrowed. "I'm so sorry, Momma..."

"Ah..." she waved it away. "Don't be sorry. It's my fault anyways. I was the one who lied. I didn't want you to think ill of me, which was selfish."

Itachi shook his head. "You weren't selfish, Momma. You were in love. Like me."

"Like you," she agreed.

Suddenly, a chime was heard in the distance. "Oh, looks like that's my cue. I have to go now, Itachi."

"Mama...! I don't want you to go!" Itachi felt much younger suddenly, afraid, "Isn't there any way for you to come back with me?"

"No, Itachi. I'm sorry, baby, but it's my time. And your father needs me," she smiled. "Don't cry, honey," she whispered, picking up the young Itachi. "I know, sweetie, I know. Stop crying, sweetie, you're gonna make momma cry."

Itachi sniffled lightly as he looked up at his kind mother's eyes, clinging desperately to her. Mikoto smiled gently.

"Come on...you're a big boy, Itachi. And you have Shisui," she put Itachi down as he grew. "That's better. See?"

Itachi wiped his tears on his sleeve and whispered again, "I'm so sorry..."

"Nobody needs to be sorry, now, Itachi. It isn't the end. We'll meet again someday."

Itachi frowned. "You can't leave..." he demanded. "You didn't finish the story..." tears began to stream down his face again, sobbing into his hands.

"You're right..." Mikoto nodded. "Once upon a time, there were Shisui and Itachi. Against all odds, they survived disease, abuse, hatred, and stared death in the face with a single sentence: 'We will survive.' And through injury and illness, pain and despair, they did. They raised Sasuke like their own and taught him to survive and be strong as they had. They taught him to forgive and love selflessly, no matter what, and..." Mikoto's voice choked off in tears.

"A-and...?" Itachi looked up, steady tears flowing down his cheeks, eyes pleading.

"And...they lived happily...ever...after..."

Mikoto wrapped her arms around Itachi's shoulders, hugging him tightly. He felt her dissipate into smoke as she murmured, "The end..."

Itachi shut his eyes and wiped away his dwindling tears as he murmured, "Thank you, Mama."

He opened them again to see his father's bleeding, burned hands held to his face as he cried, shoulders small enough to where he might have even been younger than the crow.

"Why..." Fugaku muttered. "Why were you so loved? So precious..." his head shot up, glaring hatefully. "What did you have that I didn't?!"

"Luck," Itachi stated simply.

Fugaku's eyes narrowed. "What...?"

Itachi took notice of the lines beneath his father's eyes, the resemblance they shared, and continued, "I was no more deserving of it than you. But I got lucky..."

Itachi's hands moved up to the clasp behind his neck, undoing it. He knelt down and fastened it securely around Fugaku's throat.

Fugaku looked up at him suddenly, eyes wide. "This is..."

"Keep it."

"He gave this to you, though."

"I have him, though. I don't need more luck than that. You, however, need all the luck you can get, it seems."

Fugaku only stared as Itachi smiled sadly. "It's too bad how things work out, y'know, in life. Things could be so different for some people. If Uncle Madara had been born a girl,if Kimsong had never worked at that hospital, if I had never met Shisui...In the blink of an eye, our roles could have been reversed. I could have married and had children, I could have ended up alone. I could have ended up loving, or spiteful, or sad. I could've been abusive towards my children, too. And they could have ended up like me, or you, or anyone else in the world, and lived our lives, and had this story. It's easy enough to think of fate and say, 'Why us? Why do we endure this when they have it so easy?'" Itachi knelt down in front of his father. "Maybe, in another life, I could do more than empathize with you. Maybe we would have been siblings, or cousins, or even not related. Maybe we could have gotten along. Maybe we could be eachother. Maybe...we could have been friends," Itachi smiled.

Fugaku met his son's calm, affectionate eyes, tears welling in his own as the smile registered deeply.

"I think I would have liked that," Itachi concluded. "Maybe we'll meet again. Maybe in the next life, you'll have better luck? And we can be friends then. Okay?"

A gentle wind began to blow, stirring their hair as Fugaku's hands began to bleed a gentle violet instead, tears flooding his eyes. "You're...so beautiful...Itachi...you look just like her..."

Itachi stood. "I look like you, too..."

He gently poked the young Fugaku in the forehead, muttering, "Some other time, okay...?" watching him fade, blowing away like smoke in the wind.

Itachi turned around in time to see his home materialize, the sun setting in the trees surrounding. Itachi entered as his world materialized in front of him, the sunset bleeding vermillion as he stepped over the threshold, the interior going white. "Tadaima..."

-o-

Shisui's heart seized as he watched Sasuke fall asleep, losing hope as he imagined the worst, a gaping loneliness opening in his stomach as he once again felt the will to live drain from his bones. He glanced at the digital clock face burning a red "2:27."

He smiled gently. Itachi was born at 2:27 a.m. He murmured Itachi's name softly and kissed his forehead weakly.

Itachi's eyes flitted open as he murmured, "Shi...sui...?"

-o-


	35. Epilogue: Heart-Shaped Box

Itachi unlocked the heart-shaped box with a click, no longer afraid of all he had thought and all he had kept locked away from memory, secrets no longer able to scare him, ready to face what had haunted him.

He lifted the lid to see the velvet lining within, soft and cold. He unfolded note by note, secret by secret, one by one.

_I liked cutting myself._

_ I dream of killing my family._

_ I've tried to kill myself before._

_ I think I'm a masochist._

_ I am ashamed to live._

_ I get in trouble on purpose so father won't hurt Momma or Sasuke._

_ I think it would all be better if I died._

_ I've had hallucinations of ghosts in the hallway._

_ In the dark, I think I see bloodstains on everything._

_ I would die before I lose Shisui._

_ I think I love Shisui more than my parents combined._

_ I'm afraid of the dark, of hights, and of being alone._

_ I am horribly ugly. _

_ I hate myself and want to die._

He set the rest aside and opened the ring box, reading the note with a fond smile.

_I don't hate him._

"Itamichi!" Shisui called from downstairs.

"Coming," he returned, shutting and locking the box. He fingered the collar around his throat gently and leant down to pick up the little kitten mewling at his feel. "Hey there, Edgar Allen."

The kitten mewed in response and he stroked the little feline's fur, murmuring softly to him as he carried him downstairs to see Shisui waiting. He smirked, releasing the kitten that looked just like his mother. "Are you gonna take off the stethoscope, Doctor Shisui?"

Shisui smirked. "Not unless you're up for a little medical play later, pet."

"Depends on if I get to wear the sexy nurse's outfit or not, _Doctor._"

"Damn...I think I like that better than when you call me 'Master,'" Shisui chuckled, resting his hand on Itachi's lower back.

"Oh. My. GOD! Get a room!" Sasuke complained, "Kimmi is _right here._"

Itachi blushed and smiled sheepishly as Shisui laughed, removing the stethoscope and laying it on the sofa, which Edgar Allen began to play with happily.

"Alright, let's go. We're gonna be late for 'tachi's art exhibition."

"This is _so cool_, Nii-san," Sasuke chirped, an arm around Kimmi's waist. "I can't _believe_ your art is on display in its own exhibit!"

"You can't?" Kimmi teased, toying with one of Sasuke's snakebites.

"Well, at least _Kimmi_ believes in me," Itachi feigned disappointment as he grabbed a bag of cat food and poured it in a small porcelain bowl, clicking his tongue. He released two crickets and began to coo utterly creepy and infinately endearing things to the three cats when Shisui cleared his throat.

"Oh...sorry," he smiled, letting Shisui see this time.

As they walked to the car, Shisui wrapped his arm around Itachi's waist, pulling him close. He kissed Itachi on the temple sweetly as Itachi murmured, "You were right."

And Shisui could only nod.

-o-

_The End_

-o-

~Hey, Wait.

I've got a new complaint.

Forever in debt

to your priceless

advice.~

-o-

A/N: Thank you to all who stuck with me until the end. I am so appreciative for all of your support, you have no idea. I hope you enjoyed and this has been my pleasure to write. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart. I love you, I love you. Please tell me what you thought, and know that I am forever in debt to your priceless advice~

-The enraptured, overjoyed, utterly grateful Nakano~

"Hey, look over there," Shisui pointed out.

Itachi glanced over in time to see a long haired male with brunette hair laughing with a tomboyish slip of a girl with pale skin and a brilliant smile, barely catching the three-ringed necklace before the blinding flash of a camera overtook his vision.

-o-


End file.
